Crimson & Clover
by heymissallie
Summary: What defined the 141's mighty captain? What if overworked MacTavish's rough-and-rugged heart used to be as fragile as a civilian's? What if Roach and Ghost decide to invade his privacy for the sake of curiosity? COMPLETE.
1. Memories that Fade like Photographs

_**Title**__: Crimson & Clover_

_**Rating**__: T (For use of profanity)_

_**Genre(s)**__: Hurt/Comfort/Humour/Romance/Tragedy (DIFFERS ACCORDING TO CHAPTER)_

_**Character(s)**__: John "Soap" MacTavish_

_**Full Summary**__: In events prior to the adventures in 2016, Roach and Ghost are then awaken with an inquiry about Captain MacTavish: what made MacTavish into the badass Captain they know today? Surely, he wasn't always like that. How did he become the ideal soldier? How did he retain his scar? Why does he have a Mohawk? While rifling through MacTavish's personal items, they are unexpectedly rewarded with the discovery of his past. And, honestly – they didn't exactly expect __**this**__._

**Chapter I: Memories that Fade like Photographs**

_**Chapter Genre**__: General, Humour_

_**Chapter Characters**__: Ghost, Roach, MacTavish_

_**Chapter Summary**__: Speeding causes MacTavish to harshly command Ghost to slow down. This leads to the invasion of MacTavish's room, infiltrated by Ghost and Roach. Their objective was to retain "enemy intelligence," but instead find themselves catch not-so-impressive personal items. However, everything seems to have a symbol in that room… _

_X _

_"Man, this guy is so accidentally cool." _

– _Nestor, Happy Feet _

**Saturday, February 13****th****, 2016**

Smacking his hand against his whitened and torn jeans, Roach's lips moved in synch with the words to the song that Ghost decided to play. Roach's voice would come out with a whisper to Eminem's rapping, but neither Ghost nor MacTavish stopped the young sergeant. His black Converse-covered feet tapped with its bass as he allowed his hands to childishly move around, mimicking the drumming within the song. Roach grinned contently at the rear-view mirror as he caught Ghost's blue eyes staring at him in amusement.

From inside the car, the darkness of the night blanketed the sky as seen through the windows while the three traveled down an empty highway (even though they did pass cars occasionally). This gave the three men a sense of security and reason on why they didn't bother stopping Roach from acting so strangely. Truth be told, it entertained them, especially since the sergeant constantly complained that the drive was too long and too dull to make.

Persuasion, however, was used as a jump start to push him into the car. Had they forced Roach to sit through the entire drive without anything to do, Ghost and MacTavish would inevitably be forced to listen to Roach's whining of, "Are we there yet?"

Although two of them men seemed to enjoy themselves, MacTavish managed to keep himself reserved. Ghost, however, catch smirks forming in the corners of his captain's lips but he did not laugh loudly like Roach or even smirk knowingly like Ghost. MacTavish barely said a word ever since their drive had started and it began to raise questions between the soldiers of the Task Force 141. MacTavish was known to be out-spoken and energetic. How does one deal with the situation when the talker doesn't talk?

"Ghost," MacTavish finally said. Ghost unnoticeably jumped from the Scot's sudden voice. MacTavish then continued casually, "Slow down, will ya?"

Ghost momentarily lightened the press against the gas pedal, later to regain his original speed. Within Ghost's peripherals, he watched MacTavish's expression, at the same time keeping an eye on the peculiar sergeant. The drive had gone nearly a solid three minutes – with the exception of music and Roach's drum-dancing – until MacTavish spoke up again.

"Ghost, slow down," he said exasperatedly. Ghost did as he was told, dropping the speed of the vehicle enough to see his captain content. However, his cycle of regain speed returned and MacTavish managed to catch it easier this time. "Ghost, I told you to slow down. We're making good time. You don't need to speed." His eyes did not avert from the windshield.

For awhile, Ghost followed his instructions – for unknown reasons – and maintained a certain speed. Although, admittedly, Ghost was starting to become annoyed with MacTavish's remarks, he _was_ still entertained by the child sitting at the back. Through time, he began to consider of having a "Baby on Board" sticker – all for Roach. Perhaps he would place stuffed animals on the dashboard to keep the kid entertained. Maybe he would fill the CD holders with Barney music and the musical scores from The Magic School Bus.

Glancing at MacTavish for a second, Ghost noticed him sleeping softly with his head resting backward. Roach had stopped his drumming – or dancing – as he sat impatiently, trying to stretch. Ghost had muted the sound system while he continued to drive.

"Want to play a game?" Roach had requested with his voice tainted with genuine boredom. Ghost looked at the rear-view mirror.

"What game is that, Yankee?" Ghost asked, lowering his voice. He attempted to avoid waking MacTavish up as he allowed the vehicle to raise its speed. He wanted to end the drive as soon as possible, and speeding just a little would assist in accomplishing that. Sometimes, MacTavish _really_ needed to loosen up a bit.

Ghost realized Roach had been thinking for awhile. "Eye spy," he suggested. Ghost snorted from his stifled laughter and momentarily looked at Roach. "What? It's a good game. It'll keep you occupied while you're driving." Roach shrugged apathetically as he slouched in his seat, no longer keeping a great posture. Roach eyed MacTavish from behind and said, "C'mon, old man. You were a kid once."

Gripping the steering wheel, Ghost gritted his teeth. "_Captain MacTavish_ is old. _General Shepherd_ is old. I, for one, am _not_ old. Damn it, Roach – I'm your _lieutenant!_" He whispered harshly. With moments of deep breathing, Ghost rolled his eyes at himself and relaxed at the steering wheel. "Fine – do you want to go first?"

Roach nodded frantically, saying, "Yes, sir! I spy with my little eye, something that is bright."

"Headlights," Ghost stated earned a mock-sulking sound from Roach as he crossed his arms against his chest, wrinkling his green hooded sweater. Ghost then continued their frivolous game with, "I spy something _silver_." Roach narrowed his eyes at Ghost.

"It goes, _I spy with my little eye_," he corrected him. Ghost, however, didn't respond quickly and Roach realized that his attention was focused on MacTavish – or something of his possession. Roach, feeling curiosity overwhelm him, tried to peer over MacTavish's shoulder to see what he was staring at, simultaneously saying to Ghost, "Uh, sir – I think you should keep your eyes on the road."

Ghost did what was suggested and began looking at the road. He then said to Roach in a quiet voice, "C'mon, Roach – look for the silver."

Roach, with his seatbelt, loomed over the shoulder only to see MacTavish's naked hands. What caught his quirky eyes was the modest gleam of a silver ring on MacTavish's finger. The fact that it was wrapped around his left hand – on its ring finger – was what alerted Roach. His jaw slightly slacked open as his eyes turned to gaze at Ghost. Both men stayed quiet with their eyes widened in astonishment.

"_Holy shit, is he married?_" Roach whispered furiously. Ghost shrugged and attempted to organize his thoughts. He never thought of MacTavish being married. It didn't even cross his mind to figure out what happened to him prior to his military life. His hands gripped the wheel even harder as Roach asked other questions. "Do you think he has a family back home? What about his brothers or sisters? Oh, damn – do you think he's a virgin –?"

"Roach, _shut up_," Ghost commanded. His voice was louder than he had anticipated and this allowed MacTavish to jerk awake. Roach awkwardly scurried back to slouch in his seat as Ghost's eyes remained on the road, and only the road. He did jump, however, when MacTavish's voice rose, just as it previously had done before – _on the field._

"Damn it, Ghost! Slow the hell down! What are you doing?" he demanded, his physique sitting upright in a quick manner. Ghost looked at his captain in an exasperated way and narrowed his eyes when averting it. Roach remained silent and played invisible as he tried to keep concealed in the shadows.

"Captain, there's no one on the road. I'm just trying to make the trip a little shorter than necessary –"

MacTavish turned his head toward Ghost. "This is a command: _pull over._"

For a few moments, Ghost remained astonished at the new demand his captain gave him. He obeyed – eventually – and pulled over to the side of the highway, allowing late-night (or perhaps early-morning) drivers to pass them by. MacTavish unbuckled his seat belt and commanded Ghost to switch seats with him. Because of the sudden anger in his voice, Ghost complied immediately. Roach was left to sit, awkwardly feeling the tension between the two men.

MacTavish drove the rest of the way to their destination, all in the uncomfortable silence. He didn't dare open his mouth to request the music to be played or for a childish game to commence. Roach visibly cringed whenever noise was made when moving around in his seat to get comfortable. None of them spoke for remainder of the trip.

Arriving, MacTavish sighed as he parked the vehicle. Staring at Ghost, he apologized. The two men were slightly taken aback and they watched their captain with caution. "Let's just keep listening to the commands, eh? We'll keep this simple." He exited car without another word, leaving the other two men dumbfounded and suspicious. Ghost's eyes never left the captain's. Roach's never left the patrolling guards around the building.

Both of them leaving the vehicle and into the co-headquarters of the 141, Roach followed his lieutenant as they avoided the dining hall several men occupied. They both clearly knew that MacTavish had already walked in there to keep his mind busy, but the two headed in the opposite direction – toward the dorms of the soldiers. Although obedient, Roach's conscience forced him to question Ghost's intentions.

"Sir, where are we going?" Roach asked. Ghost's eyes maintained to look forward.

"We're going to MacTavish's room," he told him. Roach widened his eyes in interest and some fear.

"Why's that?"

Ghost turned to the sergeant as the two swiftly trudged through the bleak hallways. He kept his voice low, saying, "MacTavish doesn't have mood swings." Roach raised an eyebrow, unsatisfied with the answer.

"Not like you," he managed to mutter. Although Roach earned a light glare from Ghost, he shrugged it off and continued to explain his strange motives.

"He didn't act like the captain, mate. He didn't act like the badass we know him to be. He didn't command. He was scared when he woke up. And while he was driving, I started thinking – does it mean he wasn't always the captain we know him to be now?" he had asked, his arms casually swaying by his sides. Roach didn't bother answering as the two wound up in front of MacTavish's dorm room. Of course, this was _Room 2_ for MacTavish and there was a possibility that most of his sentimental valued items were in the primary headquarters. Then again, the HQ in Hertfordshire was secure enough to hold the objects soldiers wouldn't want to lose.

"We can't just walk in there," Roach insisted. "That's the _captain's_ room! What if some crazy alarm rings when we walk in? He's probably got some traps lying around in there. What do you expect to find; a diary with pink hearts in it about his non-existent wife? If you haven't noticed, sir; MacTavish is a private man."

"Calm down, you toss-pot. MacTavish is with the barbie with the other men, tucking in for breakfast_._ Anyway, the lock maybe ace for others, mate, but not for me. And, for your information, Yankee, MacTavish's girlfriends are probably eye-poppers, unlike your minger girlfriends."

Roach's eyes had widened with confusion. "What the hell is MacTavish doing with a Barbie?"

In the middle of picking MacTavish's lock, Ghost had paused to laugh. "Not a Barbie doll, a _barbeque_."

"What about a minger? What is that?" Roach asked. Ghost looked back to see the lock click open.

"It's not good, mate," Ghost said while standing up, pushing the door open as the two men snuck inside. The room was eerily neat for a 'hot-shot captain'. Although it seemed as if it was going to be an incredibly easy time searching for personal items, Roach and Ghost stood in the middle of the room, unsure what to look into first.

Roach then turned to his lieutenant and asked, "Why are we here? Do we need to sneak into the captain's room just to figure out a simple question?" Ghost rolled his eyes and walked toward a set of drawers, opening them only to be disappointed in seeing calendars. Regardless, he began opening the booklets, seeing several events marked for the past years.

"I always go after what I want," Ghost sighed. "MacTavish is almost never out of his room on breaks. If I have a question, I want it answered, Roach. I've had this question for awhile and I think it's about time it's stopped plaguing my mind. Besides, aren't _you_ curious to know what it takes to be the 141's captain?" Ghost continued flipping through calendars, later searching under the bed. He exhaled in frustration.

"You're sneaking in the captain's quarters to find out what it takes to be the captain? Why don't you just ask him?" Roach had asked innocently. Ghost growled silently and narrowed his eyes at the sergeant.

"It's not _just_ him being a captain – it's everything about him. You know, through time, mate, you learn about each other here. MacTavish has been here for awhile and there isn't a single detail any of us has learned – _nothing_. We only know that he never goes banging with some girl. He doesn't go travelling around during off time – it's always to London. He doesn't even have a bloody laptop. And now, he's acting like a prick over something like speeding.

"You know what he said to this gorgeous bird one time when I tried to set him up? _I have no heart to give you._ I mean, who says that? _I should have given him a prostitute! _The man is losing it!" he huffed.

Roach dropped his shoulders as Ghost began searching through the closet. "Okay, I get it. But do you honestly think you'll find anything in here? If he's not willing to share his personal life with any of us, what makes you think he'll have anything to show he's even had a life before –"

"Yankee, shut up," Ghost muttered as he paused his movement. "I've found something." He managed to open the top of the box before carrying. "C'mon, Roach. We're Oscar Mike," he told him while escaping the room.

Roach closed the door behind them as the two managed to get away from the scene of the crime, making it all the way to washroom in the opposite end of the dining area. Feeling security around them, Ghost lowered his hand inside the box only to pull out a pair of brown cowboy boots. Screwing up his face in confusion, Roach snickered at the discovery.

"Hang on, there's more," Ghost told him as he placed the boots aside. This time, he retracted a record with the title _Tommy James & the Shondells_. Ghost commented, "MacTavish has some _strange_ taste in music." He placed the record beside the boots and went to dive into the box again. With each object pulled out, he commented, "He has a plastic gold crown in here. Did he hijack this from some poor kid? It's still in pretty good shape. Oh, look – there's a postcard. Doesn't the picture look like Egypt? It's from some bird named Josephine. There's also some picture of a man - a soldier. The man kind of looks like our captain, you know? There's a guitar pick, key, _and a nameless CD? _That's it – I almost regret breaking into MacTavish's room. _Oh, and what is this?_ He has _Vanilla Cappuccino_ in a powder packet. _What the hell is this doing here?_"

It was then Roach's turn to reach into the box. "Ghost, is MacTavish Jewish?"

"Not that I know of," he answered. He questioned, "Why?"

Roach extended his arm to show a Star of David with its gold chain tangled with his fingers. Ghost's eyes widened with interest as he said, "Oh, _now_ we're getting somewhere, mate."

Roach pulled out a standard sized photo of a Caucasian woman in a wedding dress standing with MacTavish. Each held gold frames while grinning ridiculously at each other. Scanning the photograph, he saw the Star of David around the woman's neck. While Ghost busied himself with the Star, Roach peered into the box to see one last object inside the dusty box. Pulling out a slimy and swirled silver ring, he studied the two until coming to an astronomical realization. Ghost turned to Roach, seeing the young man in shock.

"_Shit –_ MacTavish _is_ married," Roach exclaimed with a whisper. He turned the photograph around and saw a date written – _Friday, May 4__th__, 2007._ He allowed his jaw to drop as he said, "Damn! MacTavish has been married for nine years and we didn't even have a clue!" Roach chuckled full heartedly, somewhat proud of his captain. "How old is MacTavish? He's thirty-four, isn't he?"

Roach looked up at Ghost but saw his face in a horrific expression. Narrowing his eyes in confusion, he turned around only to see Captain MacTavish standing behind them. He screamed in fear of being struck or yelled at by their commanding officer, and through instinct, Roach jumped behind his lieutenant.

"It was all his idea!" Roach shouted, gripping the photograph. Ghost growled at him and stepped to the side, exposing a frightened Roach. "I'm sorry, Captain! He said he wanted to search… he wanted to find something…" He was a loss for words as he realized MacTavish didn't respond by shouting at the two men. Instead, he stood there, calmly. There was no shock, no rage or any noise. His eyes only stared at the photograph in Roach's hand.

He stepped forward, extended his hand. "Sergeant, may I have that back?"

Raising his eyebrows, Roach immediately complied and gave it to him. He began to place the items back in the box as Ghost crossed his arms with narrowed eyes.

"How did you find us? Why aren't you yelling at us? And, Captain, who is she?"

MacTavish looked up from the photograph and half-smiled emptily. "You two didn't walk into the dining area. Roach always heads there first so I know you were headed to my dorm room when you didn't show up." Pausing, he looked at the two men with caution. "I would have kept these in the sub, but Shepherd could never allow me to keep such personal items in board. I knew, sooner or later, muppets like you two would find it and I would have to explain."

Roach shrugged awkwardly. "You're not mad?"

MacTavish shook his head and led them out of the odorous washroom. Privately heading towards a confined room, the box was settled onto a table as the captain sat down. He offered them a chance to sit.

Scratching the back of his head, he admitted, "I'll explain everything, I promise. Do you want to know what makes a captain, Ghost? Then I will tell you_. _There isn't a saint without a past or a sinner without a future. Every single item has sentimental value, but I don't think you'll understand _why_ unless you know a few things about me."

**Author's Note****: Yes, that last line he just said came from a quote that Evey Hammond (from V for Vendetta) said. This is more of a 'prologue' chapter which will lead to John MacTavish's private life. So, please do me a huge favour and review, because, honestly, it'll boost my self-esteem! They'll be highly appreciated! Constructive criticism is welcome. Flames, however, will be used to search for Makarov. Hoorah! **

**If you **_**do**_** want to review but don't know what to say, answer this question! **_**What would you have done if you caught Ghost/Roach (or both) in your room, going through your things? (This will be used for future writing references.)**_

**Chapter Title: **_**Memories that Fade like Photographs by All Time Low**_

**Next chapters will include mini-MacTavish and the events of his childhood that led up to him being such a sick captain. Review for mini-MacTavish, nosey Ghost, Roach and some cookies! **

**(Hint, Hint: Reviews control the speed of updates.)  
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	2. Decided to Break It

**Chapter II: Decided to Break It**_**  
>Chapter Genre<strong>__: Humour/Family**  
>Chapter Characters<strong>__: 6 year old John MacTavish & his family / Ghost, Roach**  
>Chapter Summary<strong>__: John MacTavish's training for the military commenced far before anyone else's. In 1988, as a six year old, MacTavish is still able to infiltrate "enemy locations," also known as his older brother's room. _

_X_

_"Where's my super suit?"_  
>– <em>Lucius, the Incredibles <em>

_MacTavish crossed his arms in front of Ghost and Roach. "I was six in 1988, and for some bloody reason, my sister loved to call me 'Johnny. My brother, at the time, never really spoke to me…"_

**1988.**

Up on the black television, a formal portrait of a decorated military man was carefully kept there. Six year old John looked up at the TV, ignoring the broadcasting program as he continued to stare at the black-and-white, unmoving picture of his father. His mouth opened with pristine astonishment, his head physically tilting up to gaze. He pouted slightly as he suddenly felt the pains of missing his father, wishing that he was with them.

"John?"

The little boy wiped around when hearing someone calling his name. His eyes gazed toward his older sister, Josephine, as she sat down on the multi-coloured sofa. The thirteen year old girl looked at her baby brother and smiled.

"Do you know where mum is?"

His chubby fingers pointed at the small and rusted refrigerator in the kitchen. "Mummy went to work early," he simply said, his high-pitched, Scottish voice quiet. His microscopic feet tumbled across the floor as he climbed up on the sofa. Sucking his thumb, he looked at his sister while standing up on the cushions. "Can I have a hug, Joey?" His older sister grinned warmly towards him and hugged his petite physique. He then asked, "Why do you need mummy?"

She let him go. "Mum works with flowers. A friend of mine was caught in a car accident –"

"What's that?" he asked, his bum plopping down to the putrid-coloured couch. "What's an axe-e-dent, Joey?" Josephine laughed lightly as his naïveté.

She asked him, "Do you know what cars are, Johnny?" He nodded, his wide eyes looking at her. "Car accidents are when they hit each other." John frowned, his eyes saddening. His thumb was still stuck in his mouth as Josephine gave him a quizzical expression.

"Why do cars hit each other?"

Josephine lightly laughed again. "They don't do it on purpose. That's why it's called accident. Sometimes people are okay. Something people get hurt. But a friend of mine was in a car accident yesterday and she's in the hospital. Do you know what a hospital is, Johnny?" He nodded silently. "My friend is hurt, but she's starting to feel okay. I want to send her flowers so she can smile."

"I can help!" he exclaimed with delight, jumping on the cushions. Josephine giggled and grabbed her little brother, holding him next to her body.

"I know you can," she said, kissing his forehead. "Do you remember what flowers are used to tell people to get better?" John looked up in thought, his lower lip pouting when he couldn't come up with a name.

He hugged her neck and said, "Give her the sunflower!" Josephine raised her eyebrows, satisfied with his response. "Make her smile! You said you wanted to make her smile! Give her a teddy bear, and toys, and candy, and stickers, and ice cream, and puppy, and fireworks, and–"

"John!" Josephine giggled again, holding her brother down before he exploded with confetti, like a piñata. "I'm giving her flowers. I like your idea of sunflowers."

"Because my ideas are the best," he boasted childishly, crossing his arms like a mock-superman. Josephine ticked him at his sides, listening to him squeal in delight as he attempted to squirm away. The two laughed hysterically like proper siblings as their fun ended with Josephine hugging the younger MacTavish.

There wasn't a day when John didn't love his older sister. He _adored_ her. She was the mum when his mother was away. She always took care of him. She was a saint in his eyes, an angel with altruistic compassion. Whenever his mum's friends would come and visit, they would always compliment Josephine on how beautiful she was becoming or how intelligent she really was. He knew for a fact that one day she would grow up to be a successful woman, or, in his young eyes: "_A good mummy!"_ Josephine always took care of him, and he vowed that when he grew older, he would repay her one day.

Her hands ran through his thick hair as she suddenly whispered in his ear.

"Could you do a big favour for me, Johnny?" she asked. He gasped and nodded frantically. The favours she made always turned out to be his personal adventures. He would _always_ succeed because he was the best. "Break into Joshua's room and get me mum's flower book. It's under the bed, I think."

John immediately broke into a saluting stance and dashed off of the couch and across the living room. The pitter-patter of his feet rhythmically trailed down the hallway and up the stairs. His ears caught the muffled sound of his eleven year old brother, Joshua, listening to music from a boom box. Turning off the light in the hallway, his hand gripped the large handle above his head. Softly enough, John turned the handle and kept the wooden door ajar, wide enough to peer inside his grumpy brother's room.

The problem with Joshua was that he wanted to grow up to fast. He hated the fact that Josephine was constantly praised by his parents and family friends. John was always recognized to be the baby of the family and therefore everyone's attention shifted to him. Joshua then referred to staying in his room all day, listening to loud music and lying down in the dark. Whenever he wanted something, he would gather up the courtesy to ask, but he would fail to return it. John didn't think he meant to – he only forgot.

He allowed his eyes to adjust to the darkness as Joshua's room was just covered in black. He used a dim flashlight and kept it low to the ground so his brother would not discover his presence. He preferred to not let him know he was walking into his room. He would scream and complain. He couldn't even _ask_ Joshua for the book. He never talked to him, anyway.

Giving a quick scan, he noticed his brother lying down on his bed, unconscious. He knew very well that taking the most direct path to find his mother's book would be the most dangerous, so he felt grateful knowing that his brother was the messiest person he knew (John, of course, didn't know many people at the age of six, but still called Joshua the messiest). Sneaking in, John kept the door ajar and snuck behind piles of clothing. He manoeuvred around furniture and hid well in the dark. His light weight allowed him to travel around without being detected. The sound of the blasting boom box additionally covered any squeaks the floorboards created.

John pictured his father and the wars he fought. He pretended to be a soldier having to break into a highly-guarded base while sneaking around the dark room. When reaching Joshua's bed, his mind conjured up events and fake scenarios that he had to retrieve a bomb or some sort of new technology for the government to save the world. His little hands searched under the dusty bed for any feeling of a thick book.

He used his flashlight to search, later spotting a pink novel with a picture of a flower on it. Lying on his soft tummy, John extended his hands and slid under the bed to retrieve the desired item. Retracting, John quickly slid from the bed and attempted to sit up straight, only to have his head hit the side of the bed, shaking it. He cried out and rubbed it, giving a frustrated look at the bed frame.

His eyes, however, were suddenly looking at an awakened Joshua MacTavish. With a moment of silence, Joshua's eyes suddenly became angry. In fear, John grabbed on tightly to the book with his tiny hands and screamed before running out. Joshua began bellowing for him to get out as John continued screaming in a high voice. He ran out the door, heard it slam, and swiftly moved down the stairs – all while almost in tears.

Josephine raised her voice, telling Joshua not to slam his door. Her facial expression became dumbfounded as she looked down to see John with the book between his hands. His eyes were wide and glistened with near tears. His cheeks were red and his lower lip pouted. His general appearance could melt any heart.

She kneeled at John and opened her arms, wrapping them around him. He handed her the book to allow her to search for the flower she was trying to think of. Kissing his forehead, she screwed up his hair and tapped his back for him to move toward the couches. Sitting down, she opened the book with John beside her, and he leaned beside his sister to look at the pages. He flipped the worn out pages for her as they searched for the flower.

"Thank you, Johnny," Josephine told her brother. "You've helped me a lot!" John displayed a wide and obnoxious smile. His sister held him as the two watched television together until he fell asleep on her lap.

_"I was always afraid of my brother," MacTavish chuckled as he crossed his arms. Ghost and Roach exchanged expressions. "I used to think he was a vampire or something. For the first few years of my life, I don't think I ever saw him smile. I loved both my brother and sister. I knew Josephine loved me. I knew Joshua loved me, too. He just didn't know it at the time, I guess."_

**Author's Note****: There goes mini-MacTavish, infiltrating bases even before joining the army. **

**I greatly appreciate every review that I receive. It makes that reality impact that people are, in fact, reading, which gives me the odd motivation to continue posting. i would definitely reply individually to your reviews if I had the time, but I promise I'll make a sort of thank-note... to a point. Again, thanks! Anyway, I ask again to review! Any comment makes my day because they mean so darn much. Constructive criticism is appreciated. Flames will be used to search for Makarov. Hoorah! **

**Chapter's question: **_**CAN YOU EVEN IMAGINE A MINI-MACTAVISH? Tell me YOUR description of mini-MacTavish (will be used for future writing references).**_**  
>Chapter Title: <strong>_**Decided to Break It by Marianas Trench**_

_**Foley: Ramirez/Reader, go review this story before the enemy takes it over, now!**_

**Review for mini-MacTavish and cookies?**


	3. Don't Drop the Soap For Anyone Else

**Chapter III: Don't Drop the Soap (For Anyone Else but Me)**_**  
>Chapter Genre<strong>__: Humour**  
>Chapter Character(s)<strong>__: Seven year old John MacTavish & his family / Ghost, Roach**  
>Chapter Summary<strong>__: John was always the person to do the wrong things for the right reasons, even if he didn't realize it was the wrong thing. Sometimes soldiers do this. What about kids?_

_X_

_"Valuing life is not weakness."_  
>– <em>Mirage, the Incredibles <em>

_"It's really hard to get my mother mad," MacTavish chuckled, taking a sip of coffee Roach offered him. "That woman worked around costumers for hours and dealing with tedious flowers. I got her pretty angry one time. She didn't show it. She didn't yell. She did that motherly thing, telling her kid it was alright. It was only when I grew older when I figured out what she really felt. I thought I was doing something that would make her proud…"_

**1989.**

The summer sunrays beat down on the ground as the seven year old boy held onto a small branch. A small blanket was draped over John's shoulders while placing a plastic gold crown around his head. His branch became his sceptre as he ran around the front yard, exclaiming to random animals to bow down before the Crusader King. He had now idea what a crusader was, but Josephine had mentioned it several times and called him that whenever he dressed up as a king.

John's mother left the house to go work in the flower shop again. Since Joshua had been acting up again with his rebelling, she took him with her to teach him some discipline. Josephine was over at a friend's place, working for a science project. This left John all alone, content, as he jumped around in the front yard.

He had a strange endeavour to make things perfect within his life. He wanted to make everyone happy. With everyone out of the house, it gave John the perfect opportunity. He skipped around the yard, dragging his blanket across the lawn as the dirt attached itself onto the fabric. John envisioned himself as a royal superhero while moving around, making 'whooshing' sounds with his mouth as he pretended to fly.

His attention, however, was interrupted at the sight of a strange animal. John allowed his small body to turn towards the small creature as a vulgar odour suddenly filled his nostrils. Instinctively, John plugged his nose with his fingers and ran to the side – toward his mother's clothesline – and took a pin to keep his nose closed. He turned around to gaze back at the black animal. He stared at its white strip, running down its tail.

Holding his hands up to show he was no threat, John cautiously advanced towards the skunk. He began to wonder how the poor thing would make any friends if it stunk horribly. Within the few moments passing by, John made his mind up to assist the skunk in bettering its situation by, maybe, making it smell a little less repulsive. Approaching the animal, John lowered to his knees and was pleased to find that the animal did not squirm away.

John held out his hands to welcome the curious animal. It quickly responded and waddled toward him, crawling into his arms as he slowly hugged the creature next to him. Softly, he walked to the front door of his home and placed the skunk on the putrid-coloured couch. Locking the door, John sprinted to the bathroom in order to draw its bath. Perhaps the animal stayed in the dumpster all day, he thought. It needs a bath.

Dashing down the stairs, John was surprised to see that the skunk no longer sat on the couch. His eyes widened with curiosity, he then began call out for it, coaxing it. He bent down to search under the tables and under the chairs. His thoughts turned to the kitchen – wondering if it was hungry – and rushed to the area. Sure enough, the skunk wandered around the opened room in hopes of finding something to eat.

Trying to act hastily, John ran towards the skunk. He wound up scaring the creature as its tail rose instinctively, spraying out a strong odour. Narrowing his eyes at the animal, John believed it to be simply cranky. Admittedly, he, too, always tried to hide whenever his mother persuaded him to take his bath. If he would have to reach to the extents that his mother did to him, then so be it. He just wanted to take care of the poor skunk.

Heading to the refrigerator, John discovered a variety of food that he believed he could feed the skunk with. On his toes, John grabbed his brother's cereal and dragged it across the floor. He retracted a rather large bowl from the cupboards and lowered it. Opening the cereal box, its pieces overflowed and scattered around. Returning to the refrigerator, he grabbed the jug of milk he knew his brother always snuck out to directly drink from and started mixing it with the cereal.

John pushed the bowl toward the skunk, tempting it to eat. The creature merely blinked at it curiously but did not advance, causing John to frown with frustration. Running back to the pantry, John pulled out his sister's chocolate syrup and began squirting a trail from the cereal pile to the nearest point of the skunk he could reach without it running off. John then stared at the skunk, hoping it would notice.

Taking a piece of cereal, John demonstrated what the skunk was supposed to do. Popping it into his mouth, the skunk crawled toward the disastrous bowl of cereal.

For half an hour, John watched the little thing munch its little heart out until it began to move around. He figured it was full and that it was time for the skunk's bath.

With his reflexes, John dived for the skunk and managed to have it entangled with his arms. Reaching the bathroom upstairs, John threw the skunk into the bathtub and instantaneously he placed soap into the tub. Mixing it, the bubbles audaciously sputtered in and out of the tub, causing John to slip around the tiled floor before splashing into the tub. He laughed at himself, apologizing to the skunk as it squirmed around.

Removing the pin from his nose, John had realized just how revolting the smell was as he gagged. He waved his hand in front of his nose, glaring at the skunk for his "inappropriate" smell.

With his fingers, John began lathering the skunk. While doing this, he began to fantasize about asking his mother to keep the skunk as a pet. It co-operated with him and he immediately felt a strange connection with the animal. He knew for a fact that skunks were not well liked through the public and he, himself, was not exactly well liked by his classmates (they dismissed him as a peculiar child with bizarre ambitions).

Faintly, he heard a key being inserted in the front door and he immediately knew it was his mother, brother and sister. Noticing John's pause, the skunk suddenly dashed out of the tub to remove itself from the unusual treatment. He shouted after it, getting up with soap covered all over his tiny body. He sprinted after the animal as it flew down the stairs, exiting from the open front door.

Screams were heard. John made it to the bottom level of the house and stood innocently in front of his mother. Joshua, his older brother, narrowed his eyes at him with confusion as Josephine began gagging at the smell within the house. John's mother looked disapprovingly towards her youngest son and lowered the belongings hanging from her arms.

"What was _that_?" Josephine asked. She brought the flowers she held up to her nose and inhaled deeply. Joshua began guffawing hysterically, his hand slapping on his face as he shook his head. Horrified, Josephine then added, "_Johnny!_ Was that a skunk?"

The boy covered with soap lowered his head with guilt. "It smelled bad so I gave it a bath," he admitted. Joshua's laughter shrieked even harder as he exited the house, trying to catch his breath. Josephine concentrated on trying not to vomit while their mum kneeled down to him to stay eye-levelled.

"I know you want to help," she sighed, wiping the bubbles of soap away from his face. "But there are things you can't help with. Skunks are smell to keep them alive. They're not the same as us," she explained.

John's mouth rounded to say, "Oh."

"Soap, you've got some good ideas, but you can't fix everything," Joshua sighed from outside. "But what were you doing to do when the skunk sprayed this crap?"

"Joshua, language," Josephine and their mum snapped at him.

The older woman looked at John and said, "We'll figure out a way."

_Roach and Ghost had roared with laughter as they slapped the table in good humour. "My brother called me Soap all the time after that," MacTavish had admitted as he watched them. "I hated it for years." _

**That concludes Chapter III! Even badass captains have to make their fair share of mistakes, especially as kids. Anyway, this is just a reminder/encouragement for you to review! (Hint, hint: they control the speed of updates!) I also highly love the fact that you guys are favouriting this story. (: Constructive criticism will be highly appreciated. Flames will be used to burn Shepherd alive. Wait, he's dead, so I'll use it to find Makarov. Hoorah! **

**Chapter's Question: **_**Tell me a time when you've done "a wrong thing for the right reasons." (It'll help for future writing references.)**_**  
>Chapter's Title: <strong>_**Don't Drop the Soap (For Anyone Else but Me) by Stan Ridgeway **_

**Review for mini-MacTavish and his mummy's cookies! **


	4. Everybody's Got Something to Hide

**Chapter IV: Everybody's Got Something to Hide Except for Me and my Monkey**_**  
>Chapter Genre<strong>__: Humour**  
>Chapter Character(s)<strong>__: Ten-year-old John MacTavish, his mini-friends (Calder and Benjamin), three audacious bullies (Pig, Twig and Skinny), John's seventeen year old sister (Josephine), and John's fifteen year old brother (Joshua) / Ghost, Roach**  
>Chapter Summary<strong>__: As a kid, John loved to play with his friends in a tree house that his father previously built. When three bullies attempt to take over the sentimentally valued tree house, John goes to certain extents in defending the tree house: by being the field commander. _

_X_

_"Kiss my frozen tushy! Kiss it, kiss it!"_  
>– <em>Ramon, Happy Feet<em>

_The three swallowed the pieces for their lunch as MacTavish continued talking. He leaned back casually as they laughed whole heartedly at their captain's previous stupidity and naïveté. Roach had slightly choked at one point as Ghost patted him in the back. The three shook their heads and grinned. _

_"Everyone deals with bullies at one point," MacTavish pointed out. "It's either we've had to face them or seen somebody face them. I've gone through both. As a kid, I was scrawny. I did, however, have something that they didn't have." He pointed at his head, tapping at it to signal his brain. "My father built a tree house for me. I played in it with my friends. We did everything in there – read comics, did our school work and even sleep in it. It wasn't a surprise when three muppets wanted to take it over. You know what they did? It's just like these idiots we face now – through brute force. So, when I was ten, I gathered two of my closest friends at the time and we planned something out to stop them for good."_

**1992.**

With stealth, three boys cleverly began filling dozens of balloons and their water guns with icy water. Stashing their variety of weapons up in John's tree house, the three boys acted hastily in preparation for defence. Other materials that the boys had thought up prior to their planned counterattack were also placed up to the wooden area.

Five large buckets were filled with water balloons as the boys armed themselves with their 'guns. While doing this, John looked up at his larger friend and said, "Calder, go look at your binoculars and see if they're here." The other boy nodded and did as he was told, watching the street for their infamous neighbours. Patiently, the three boys sat in the corners of the tree house while waiting for their plan to unfold.

Without warning, John's friend called out, "John! They're here!"

The boys moved towards the two adjacent windows while looking down to see three miniature goons. Their faces had exaggerated frowns. The one standing in the middle was bigger than all six of them. His face was red from the heat or his general anger, which matched his flaring red, curly hair. The two sidekicks behind him – which the boys nicknamed them Skinny and Twig, as the middle boy was nicknamed Pig – crossed their arms in an attempt to appear vicious. The boys in the tree house knew as a fact that they were much taller for kids who were a couple years older.

"You twerps," Pig called out. "Come on out here! We're taking over your tree house!" Skinny and Twig snickered and echoed Pig's threat. Pig had turned around and shouted at them to shut up, then snapping back to the disobedient boys in higher elevation.

"Make us!" Calder, the taller friend, screamed. John carefully peered out the window while grasping his water gun. The two boys grinned knowingly at the three goons merely stood in their spots. "You can't do anything to us, you big bully!"

Pig fumed, his face going darker than his orange shirt. This sight amused the three boys and began to taunt the bully. Pig, however, stepped forward, causing Calder to whimper and cower back into the tree house. John leaned over, his neck sticking out, as he did not dare display his water gun. He intended to project an element of surprise.

"You asked for it!" Pig started walking towards the tree of the MacTavishes' backyard. John's other friend, Benjamin, shouted at John and the three boys began aiming their weapons of water warfare. John commanded them carefully, chucking their water balloons at the bullies before their presence was too close. The goons began to shout and curse at the little boys as it seemed their bombing of balloons grew endless.

Pausing for a bit, Twig and Skinny panted from the surprising attack. Their lower lips pouted as they stared at the clever boys and visibly desired defeat. Pig, however, only grew livid and began to shout at both the boys and his comrades. He ordered Twig and Skinny to climb up the rope latter and to the boys. He threw threats and vile curses, waving his chubby hands around.

"Ready, aim, fire," John commanded to Benjamin and Calder. All three aimed their water guns at Pig's face and laughed hysterically at his reaction. More water balloons exploded on Pig's body as no mercy was displayed. Benjamin, Calder and John had given each other high fives and stared down with arrogance. John then called out, "Is that all you got?"

Pig resumed his screaming and began childish stomping. "You babies! I'm coming up there!" John shot a look of surprise at this threat, obviously shocked at the fact that Pig hadn't given up yet. Twig and Skinny did not bother doing anything. They did not shout at Pig to get away from the tree house nor did they encourage or follow their leader. What surprised the boys even more was the lack of water weapons they currently had.

Immediately, Calder and John – being the two biggest in the group - jumped to the door on the floor, lying down so it would remain unopened. Benjamin began whining loudly, "HE'S GOING TO EAT US!" John and Calder looked fearfully at each other and felt the door beginning to pound. They screamed in terror as Pig shouted more threats.

Sighing in irritation, John lifted his head and screamed for his sister, "Josephine!" Calder and Benjamin exchanged looks. They had never called for back up before, and especially from a girl. However, as they thought back to how Josephine looked like, they began to join John in shouting for assistance from his seventeen year old sister. Benjamin even ran out to the window and began screaming hysterically, genuinely believing that his life would end in the life of a furious Pig.

Soon enough, a raven-hair young woman dashed out of the house. Her eyes had widened at the sight of a fat child pounding at the lower door as John's friend frantically waved his skinny arms out the window. Twig and Skinny fled the scene when seeing Josephine appear outside. How could they stand up to a seventeen year old?

As a tall athlete, Josephine trudged near the tree with a deep frown on her face. Her fists were clenched and her shoulders tightened. Her eyes were intensified as she clenched her jaw. Josephine crossed her arms against her chest and began tapping her foot. Josephine was infuriated the most with that she knew Pig's parents. They were incredibly sweet and were acting in the community. It was a shame their son had gone off in this direction. John had called out for her again.

"Oh, I'm right here," she had said with her voice deepening with anger. Pig paused from hitting the door and had stared at the girl before bursting out in laughter.

"You called for your _sister_?" Pig questioned. "She's a _girl!_"

Josephine's expression of death did not change and this silenced Pig. She did not bother to restrain herself in using aggressive language as she said, "A sister implies the sex of a girl." The mention of the word _sex_ caused Pig to smile sheepishly. Josephine narrowed her eyes at him with all seriousness. She added, "You immature muppet – you bully kids but can't even restrain yourself from laughing a scientific word which describes the differentiation of male and female?"

From inside the tree house, Calder whispered to John, "Your sister's such a nerd." John had nodded in agreement and sighed exasperatedly.

Back on the ground, she glared at the little boy. "What are you doing to these boys?"

"I'm taking their tree house!"

Josephine's face did not falter. "My father built that for my brother. Why are you taking it?" Pig scoffed at her and pounded on the door a couple times. "Hey, I'm talking to you, kid!" Pig looked back at Josephine.

"What I do make me cool," he stated arrogantly. "You wouldn't know anything about being cool. You're just a _girl_," Pig had taunted as he laughed ferociously.

Before Josephine had the time to speak up again, another slammed door came from the MacTavish household. John quickly stood up from his spot and looked out the window. He saw his fifteen year old brother, Joshua, storming out of the house with bed hair. His eyes gave off the fact that he was cranky. With this, John waved sheepishly at his brother as all the MacTavish children stared down at the fat bully.

"_What_ is going on?" Joshua demanded. Josephine growled at the boy.

"That frivolous, insignificant little insect genuinely believes that being a girl is degrading! Not to mention that he's antagonizing John and his friends. He said that bullying was cool! Can you believe that, Josh? He's trying to commandeer dad's tree house! What are you still doing, just standing there? Aren't you going to do anything?" Josephine finished off her rant as Joshua stared at them, annoyed.

His eyes then shifted to the orange-t-shirt wearing bully. He said, "Get off of that rope." Pig continued to hold onto the rope as the older male suddenly crossed his arms. "Either get off that rope, kid, or I'll let Josephine tackle you. You think girls are weak or don't know what's cool? This girl plays sports – with _and_ against the boys, _and_ she wins. It's your choice. Whatever you choose, though: your mummy's going to know what you've been up to, you brat. Your parents are good people. What are you doing, destroying their good faith in you?"

Pig stared at them, confused. John had grinned at his older siblings as he waited for Pig to decide.

"Too long," Joshua sighed. He looked at his older sister and nodded at her.

The fat bully suddenly squirmed and cried out, "Okay! Okay, you win!" He jumped off of the rope and stared at John. "You suck! Your tree house sucks! I hate you! I never want to see you again!" The bully had departed from the yard as John and his friends celebrated. Opening the door, they climbed out. John immediately ran to his older sister and brother, thanking them repetitively.

"I'm calling their mother," Josephine stated bluntly. Joshua shrugged apathetically.

"That's how you fight a battle," John smiled to his friends. "Plan it. Fight it. Call for back up if you need it."

_"I never understood why men always thought of women as weak," MacTavish admitted. "My sister was one of the smartest people I knew. She was also athletic. She knew how to play dirty and that's why I admired her, even later in life. Other people admired her, too; so much, that one girl started dating her, too. _

_"My brother – well, it took him awhile to get used to the fact that girls could be him, too. His girlfriend frequently put him in his place."_

_"What ever happened to those boys?" Roach had asked as he tapped his coffee mug. MacTavish chuckled. _

_"Pig's mother was angry at him for his attitude." MacTavish stood up to retrieve his toast. "His mum sent him to some etiquette classes. In a few years, we actually became friends. He started calling me Soap while we were in secondary school. I still called him Pig and rubbed it in about his bullying days – that's what made us good friends."_

_Ghost rolled his eyes. "Your brother and sister sound a little badass," he admitted. MacTavish agreed._

_"They were, in so many ways. They were the reason why I learned how to fight my own battles."_

**Can you imagine Captain MacTavish being bullied as a younger kid? Poor kid needs to call in for reinforcements. Don't worry, though. We all know that MacTavish grows up to be a sick captain. Anyway, here's another reminder for you to review, because I appreciate each and every one of them. You people have made me the giddiest writer. (: Flames will be used for hunt down for Makarov, because the cheeky bastard deserves it. Hoorah! (Hint, hint: reviews control the pace of updates!)  
><strong>

**Chapter's Question: **_**How do you deal with bullies? (This will be used for future writing references.)**_**  
>Chapter's Title: <strong>_**Everybody's Got Something to Hide Except for My and My Monkey by the Beatles**_

**Review for mini-MacTavish and his awesomeness! **


	5. Keep the Change, You Filthy Animal

**Chapter V: Keep the Change, You Filthy Animal**_**  
>Chapter Genre: <strong>__General, Humour**  
>Chapter Character(s)<strong>__: Twelve year old John MacTavish, John's friends (Benjamin & Calder), the old neighbour, John's mother (Mrs. MacTavish), a lively dog / Ghost, Roach**  
>Chapter Summary<strong>__: Where did MacTavish's scar and hate of dogs come from? Respectively, it didn't come from battle or from the hardship of attacking dogs. No, they came from an accident. One. Stupid. Accident. _

_X_

_"You are either lucky for very unlucky!"_  
>– <em>Skinner, Ratatouille <em>

_MacTavish touched his scar on his left eye and sighed. "I used to talk so much about this scar," he chuckled lightly. The two men began to eat their late snack – in the hours between lunch and dinner. "It's been awhile since someone's asked." _

_"I think they're just afraid of the story," Roach admitted honestly. Ghost smirked and leaned on the table. MacTavish chuckled at this knowledge. _

_"It's not terrifying at all. Well, it was, especially for my mother. I was very lucky or very _un_lucky. I believe I was both. I believe I am both."_

**1994.**

John's mother kissed him on the cheek before entering her car. He waved her, telling her, "Drive safely, mum! I love you!" His two other friends joined in wishing her goodbye as she left to go to work, leaving the children to entertain themselves for a few hours. As soon as they watched the beat up vehicle leave the premises, John and his friends had displayed their baseball bats with a ball as all three of them spread out throughout the yard.

Looking up, John reminisced about the tree house and how his call for his siblings frightened the bully and his comrades away. Over the course of two more years, the John and his friends placed more comics and CDs into the small house. Even a new calendar of the 1994 year was hung up. The tree house played host to the boys' sleepovers and all-nighters. Each moment the three friends shared, the tree house kept the memory – all thanks to John's father.

Holding up his bat, John stared at Calder, his bigger friend, as he prepared to wind up throwing the ball. With fluidity, John swung his body around to powerfully crack the ball in the opposite direction of his bat. His friends whooped in admiration as John grinned, crossing his arms across his chest while giving a knowing look.

"That was a wicked swing, mate," Calder had commented as he watched Benjamin, the smaller child, run after the ball. John thanked him. Their eyes scanned the neighbourhood to see if there were any objects that could possibility break. Without any sign of it, the boys continued their amusement.

"I dare you to do that again," Benjamin shouted after John. The Scot smirked and nodded at the challenge. He had watched as Calder and Benjamin aimed toward him and threw. With a similar technique, John swung his body around to allow the ball to move in the opposite direction. The ball bounced on several objects before peacefully landing in John's neighbour's backyard. The two boys rolled their eyes, knowing it was typical of John to allow the ball to fly over the fence.

John, however, frowned. "So, who wants to go get that?" he asked them. His friends gave him a look of disbelief. Huffing, John accepted the fact that he had to trespass his neighbour's backyard in order to retrieve his baseball bat.

He knew perfectly well that it was wrong to walk into someone's property without any permission, but John did not dare to confront his cranky neighbours. They had good intentions, he knew that, but their grumpy attitudes always made him feel uneasy. Not to mention the countless of times their dog barked all night, forcing the neighbourhood to wake up – it drove him to the wall.

Grasping his side of the wooden fence, John scanned his neighbour's yard and found the baseball lying in the farthest corner. He rolled his eyes in annoyance. _Of course it's there_, he thought. His eyes turned toward the dog house, the tool shed and the back door of his neighbour's house. He sighed deeply. All he had to do was get in, get the ball, and get out.

"John, what are you waiting for?" his friends called. "Get the bloody ball so we can play!"

Shooting a look behind him, John leapt over the fence and landed on the grass. Without hesitation, John dashed for the ball while keeping alert of his surroundings. His friends watched him by peering over the fence, telling him to hurry up with his pace. John's concentrated had stayed on the ball as he finally reached the item.

Turning around, John threw the ball towards his friends as he yelled, "Here ya go, ya muppets."

He chuckled as he watched his friends quickly retreat to grab the baseball. His feet had started to trudge across the lawn until he heard a soft growling coming from his right. His head turned to face it, listening carefully. Slowly, but surely, the neighbour's Doberman audaciously stepped out of its house. There was no chain to confine it was it was supposed to be held within closed quarters. Knowing that he was in its territory, John backed away.

"Ben… Calder…" John softly called. His voice was too quiet in order for the two boys to hear, leaving John alone in the backyard to fend for himself. For a second, John averted his eyes to look at the fence he needed to climb up in order to escape. This moment was what the dog needed in order to begin barking frantically, advancing toward John.

Instinctively, John had turned around and attempted to reach the wall. With the Doberman too close to him, John was forced to resort to an alternate exit. His voice had then risen for Benjamin and Calder as he dived into the tool shed. He had closed the door and felt the dog banging its head against the wood. From outside, John could hear the shouts of his friends, the obnoxious barking and the sliding of a screen dog. An older voice began screaming at the kids.

John slightly opened the door to call for help but only found the Doberman at its stance. It threw itself at John, forcing the twelve year old to fall back and crashing into the appliances. The old neighbour began calling at the dog, whistling to signal for it to get off of John.

"_It's eating John!_" Calder had screamed while Benjamin jumped over the fence. The neighbour had dragged the dog off of John as the two boys began shouting his name. They began asking him questions if he was okay as they noticed blood dripping from his left eye. Calder screamed at the neighbour, "Your dog ate John's eye!"

The old man commanded his dog to open its mouth. Turning around, he responded, "No, he didn't! Stay here; I'm going to call 999 – the ambulance!" The man had dragged his dog into the house while making a phone call right at the screen door. Calder scrunched his nose and looked at John. There was no screaming from him, but instead stunned silence.

"He's going to go into shock," Benjamin whispered to Calder. Both of John's hands had covered his face as more blood spilled out. The old man had returned with a cloth and he pressed it against John's eye. "He's going to go into shock," Benjamin repeated to the neighbour. The old man shook his head.

"I'll be here for him. What were you kids doing here, anyway?" he asked them.

Calder looked uneasy at the neighbour. "Our ball flew over to your house, sir," he told him. "We didn't want to bother you so John went ahead to get the ball. We're really sorry, sir." The old man grumbled underneath his breath – calling them muppets.

Soon enough, the ambulance arrived, transporting John into the hospital to receive stitches across his left eye. A power tool had struck his eye and split open his eyelid and even ripped open its lower end. John's mother met up with her son in the hospital. To everyone else, it seemed she would faint at the spot.

For a long period, John was unable to see out of left eye. This deprived him from playing sports or seeing properly in class. It irritated him whenever he bumped his shoulder into doorways.

Whenever passing by a dog that would jump up at him, John would sigh exasperatedly and say, "Dogs. I hate dogs."

_Roach imitated a horrific look. "I thought your scar happened in war or something!" he shouted. MacTavish chuckled lightly as Ghost smacked his hand to his face, shaking it. Roach narrowed his eyes. "Is that why you hate dogs, Captain?" _

_"It's the reason why I'm afraid of dogs," he admitted nonchalantly. "No one really understood why I wouldn't want to step near a bloody dog, especially those big ones. Because of it, I couldn't see out of my eye for weeks! My mother was so angry at my neighbour for having such a lively dog. But how can you blame the poor thing? It was just defending its territory. In fact, my neighbour explained to me that the dog was just excited to see a visitor. It didn't help about the phobia, though."_

_Ghost asked, "Was the dog put down after that?"_

_MacTavish thought for a second as he tapped his finger against his chin. "You know what? I think the dog died of old age two weeks after I cut my eye," he said. He chuckled later. "The dog was insane. It barked every night whenever it saw a blasted cat or even a cricket. It drove the entire block nuts. The neighbour was heart broken about the death. I felt bad._

_"When you think about it, actually; my friends and mother were more afraid of the scar than I ever was. You know what my classmates were saying about me when they saw my face? They started this ridiculous rumour of me fighting off hundreds of dogs while busting a bank. It gave me some unfair creditability, but I'll admit – the popularity was interesting. The teachers went soft on me after that. Less work, I mean. They kept telling me to take it easy." _

_"Woof, woof," Ghost teased. MacTavish narrowed his eyes and chuckled. _

_"People assume things when people have scars," MacTavish smirked. "They created badass stories in their minds. It's given me an advantage, I guess. But the worst scars in people's lives are not formed physically. If we could see people's emotional scars were shown, the earth would be plagued with disfigured souls." _

**That concludes Chapter V! You know, writing about this chapter reminded me about my childhood and the fact that I was seriously accident prone. What John has just gone through – something similar happened to me, except it involved a fire hydrant. Oh, and I'd also like to add that the old neighbour did something wrong when finding the three boys: NEVER, EVER leave the wounded victim. As a lifeguard, I would know. At least he treated for the wound (sort of), but he needs to treat for shock. But it's the 90s. They're working on their skills, eh?**

**Anyway, I'd like to take this opportunity to remind you to please review for this chapter! Constructive criticism and just general comments will be highly appreciated! Flame will be used to hunt down for Makarov. Hoorah! (Hint, hint: reviews control the pace of updates!)  
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**Chapter Question: **_**What are some childhood accidents you've gone through? (This will be used for future writing references.)**_**  
>Chapter Title<strong>_**: Keep the Change, You Filthy Animal by All Time Low**_

**Review for mini-MacTavish! **


	6. Lying is the Most Fun A Girl Can Have

**Chapter VI: Lying is the Most Fun a Girl can have without taking her Clothes Off**_**  
>Chapter Genre<strong>__: Humour**  
>Chapter Character(s)<strong>__: Sixteen year old John MacTavish, a group of friends / Ghost, Roach**  
>Chapter Summary<strong>__: Peer pressure influences a great range of adolescence on what they wear, how they think or how they act. In this case, it's about a haircut… and a series of other things. _

_X_

_"It's a victimless crime."  
>"Okay, hypothetical situation: You're driving. It's late. You get to a red light in the middle of nowhere. Do you run the light? You see? You don't. You wait, because a victimless crime is still a crime."<br>"Maybe it is. Maybe I run it – it depends."  
>"…on what?<br>"Am I trying to get somewhere important?"_  
>– <em>Kyle and Anna, the Perfect Score <em>

_The darkness of the sky over loomed the secondary headquarters of the Task Force 141. Roach had re-entered the private room that the three were staying in for the entire day and placed their dinner on the table. MacTavish and Ghost had thanked him before resuming to the story-telling of MacTavish's life prior to the S.A.S. and Task Force 141. _

_Clearing his throat, he said, "As a teenager, I loved playing truth or dare." Ghost raised an eyebrow of interest. "I think it actually affected me in 1998, when I was sixteen. It was a birthday party and we just did some of the craziest shite. We didn't mean to demean each other. We actually learned a few things about each other because of that night." _

**1998.**

"Who was your first crush?"

A group of eight stared down at the teenaged John MacTavish as he answered, "Emma, who was in my sixth grade class. She moved the year after that, to come to think of it." His flirty eyes looked up at the pretty girls in the group as he grinned boyishly toward them. A couple of them had giggled and bashfully turned their heads away as he continued to give them knowing stares. He smirked afterward.

John had grown dramatically over the years. Previously, he had been a scrawny kid with courtesy and a few friends. Now, at the age of sixteen and trailing behind his older siblings, John was known to be a handsome young boy with a flirtatious, obnoxious attitude. It was exactly for that reason why he had girls hanging on his shoulders – that, and the fact that he began working out and sprouted several inches. He had no problem finding dates for school dances. Although he was well known to the girls, he never did once manipulate them into his favour. He had respect for them – especially knowing that his older sister would have his sorry arse if he ever mistreated one.

For hours, the group of teenagers played a game of truth or dare. There were shares of kisses, displays of embarrassing moments and admitting their endeavours. Their dares were sassy and tested their self-consciousness. Nonetheless, it was a good-humoured game that allowed the Scottish teens to bond with each other.

After a few rounds, the question of truth or dare returned to John. He answered dare, and his immediate challenge was to kiss the prettiest girl in the group. Teasing, he said, "Well, I'd have to kiss all the girls. They're all beautiful." He winked playfully, managing to hear giggles from the frivolous girls. The boys had howled at his corny attitude as one friend kicked him in the shoulder.

"Okay, mate; just choose a girl to kiss before I choose for you," a friend told him. John shrugged and told him to pick for him, which led onto picking a very spiteful young girl. John had smiled at her before placing his hand around the back of her neck, pulling her close to him. Within a moment, his lips touched hers and an eruption of laughter and cheering broke out through the group. For entertainment, John leaned forward enough to tip the girl to the floor. The group watched as the girl's hands suddenly ran through his thick hair.

The whooping broke out louder. "Damn, John; a little passionate there?"

John had sat up as the others gazed to see the face of euphoria on the girl.

Questions of truth and challenges of dares were sent around the circle of friends again until landing on John. This time, picking truth, a friend of his asked him to name all his previous girlfriends. John answered, "I dated Holly for around three months two years ago, and I dated Katie for five months last year." The others imagined John MacTavish first being an intelligent cheerleader's boyfriend and later being the school's photographer's boyfriend. Some smirked at this thought.

More questions and challenges passed through the group. John had admitted that he used to have a crush on his sister's girlfriend before they had broken up. Knowing that he had no chance with them broke his heart, but he loved them as 'sisters', regardless. What John also admitted was his fear of dogs (having to explain the unfortunate event of gaining his scar). The boys teased him lightly – with good humour – as the girls offered their sympathy. John simply laughed it off.

In a certain area of truth, John confessed his endeavours of joining the military, following his father's footsteps. Others envisioned just how John would be like during war. They predicted his "_badass motherfuckery"_ by sneaking up on sentries or jumping out of windows to slam onto targets. They obviously knew John's will to win. The group began making up titles for John – calling him _Sergeant MacTavish _or even _Captain MacTavish._

Modestly, John had shaken his head and said, "No; I just want to know I'm helping out in the world instead of sitting around like you muppets." He laughed teasingly, watching the others grin along.

More rounds of truth or dare passed the group of friends. This time, John requested for a dare. He was challenged with shaving his hair, something he became anxious about. The others had grinned mischievously while one of the boys ran off to find a razor. John had swallowed and agreed, nervous about the outcome of the impulsive haircut. His friends reassured him however that they would support him no matter what – and if they screwed up on the shave, they'd shave their hair off, too.

Within minutes, it was over. For the entire time, John didn't realize he hadn't opened his eyes to watch his friends remove his hair. Looking in front of him, the girls of the group gave a fascinated expression at him. A friend offered a looking glass and immediately, John's eyes expanded in both surprise and satisfaction.

"Damn, John. I didn't know you had the head for a Mohawk."

"…Looking good, John!"

"Are you happy with it?"

"What do you think?"

John's eyes lit up at his friends as he smirked, laughing at the outcome. "It's different, but I like it." A friend of his locked his arm around John's neck and began teasing the others. They allowed their game of truth or dare to continue on for the next few hours.

_"My mum dropped a plate when I walked home that night," MacTavish had laughed while reminiscing. "She didn't really have much to say. What could she say, really? What was done was done. My sister and brother liked the change, I guess. I think Josephine was relieved she didn't have to deal with my messy hair again. There wasn't a day after that when I really out grew my hair. It was pretty constant."_

_Roach nodded. "Not only is that haircut impressive, but also the accuracy of your friends' predictions. _Sergeant_ MacTavish and _Captain_ MacTavish; it's like they knew your future."_

_"I know; that was what was so eerie about the whole damn thing. When I was old enough to join the military, they weren't surprised to find out that I was headed in that direction. They joked about me being a hero. I'm no hero," MacTavish noted. Ghost raised an eyebrow as he leaned back on the chair, crossing his arms and raising his chin arrogantly. _

_"Sir, you may not think of yourself as a hero, but they've definitely got some reasons to think so," he told him. MacTavish shrugged his shoulder unsurely. His eyes averted the two men as he thought. _

_"I'm only doing my job."_

_"A job that requires fighting for your country, saving some lives, and stopping the Tangos. Yeah – all in a day's work," Roach joked. The two men politely laughed with him. _

_MacTavish looked back up at them. "I spent eight years completely concentrated on the military. That's how I saw the rest of my life to be. I went home when I had to so I could visit my family. I was always fortunate to come home, you know? I met my sister's girlfriend and my brother's fiancée. I always made sure my mum was safe. Otherwise, I was content for eight years and didn't think of anything else."_

_Roach and Ghost looked at their captain with expectant faces. "Something happened, right?" Roach had asked as he inched forward on the table. MacTavish nodded. _

_"My brother was getting married to this girl named Catalina by the time I was twenty-four. This was back in 2006. I originally was going to be the Best Man for my brother but I couldn't make it because the deployment time-span was too close. I was lucky enough just to make it to the ceremony. At least I was able to see my brother get married to the woman he loved. _

_"Anyway, although that was an important day for Joshua, something odd happened to me, too. God, did that ever screw me up." _

**That concludes Chapter 6, explaining the history behind John's teenaged years and Mohawk. I think you've noticed by now that I like to keep some vagueness around the original characters and to the mini-MacTavish to leave some imagination for you all. I don't think it would be fair to keep such a restrictive definition of the young characters, I think. To be honest, I actually did imagine John MacTavish being a little smooth with the ladies in his teens. I guess that's about the change while he's in the army. (Insert maniacal laughing here.)**

**So, the next chapter's going to bear a big eight-year-leap. This gets into his adult life. About bloody time, eh? So, I'm going to leave you off with a friendly reminder (and the temptation of cyber chocolate chip cookies) to review. Why? Because reviews mean a lot of me. Yay! Constructive criticism and comments will be highly appreciated! Unnecessary flames will be used to hunt down Makarov. Hoorah!**

**Chapter's Question: **_**What are some crazy truths/dares you've done? (This will be used for future writing references.)**_**  
>Chapter's Title: <strong>_**Lying is the Most Fun a Girl can have without taking her Clothes off by All Time Low**_

**Review for mini-MacTavish! **


	7. How Can I Miss You When You Won't Go

**Chapter VII: How Can I Miss You When You Won't Go Away?**_**  
>Chapter Genre<strong>__: General, Romance, Humour**  
>Chapter Character(s)<strong>__: Twenty-four year old John MacTavish, a wedding singer (Madeline Desmarais), his siblings (Joshua & Josephine MacTavish) / Ghost, Roach**  
>Chapter Summary<strong>__: Aside from fear, what is life's biggest motivator? What (appears to) change people? It is called love. And it cannot be judged. It cannot be reasoned with. It cannot be taken away. _

_X_

_"It means that I, like God, do not play with dice and I don't believe in coincidences."_  
>– <em>V, V for Vendetta<em>

_"Were you shot, or something?" Roach asked his captain. MacTavish had given him a confused expression before bursting out in ferocious laughter. Ghost elbowed Roach for the moronic question and rolled his eyes._

_"No, no, no," MacTavish shook his head. He cleared his throat and said, "Has anyone ever told you what the biggest motivator in life is?" Roach bit the side of his lip and looked awkwardly between the men._

_He guessed, "Fear?"_

_"It's love, Yankee," Ghost told him. "Captain fell in love." His arms crossed again as he stared at MacTavish with a different interest. Roach's eyes widened and couldn't decide whether to laugh or to stay silent. Impulsively, Roach allowed his laughter to escape from his chest and the two stared at the childish sergeant. Ghost's eyes narrowed at him, signalling him to shut up before MacTavish would suddenly retract and refuse to tell them the rest of his life's story. _

_"Damn, you were serious?" he asked. MacTavish nodded. _

_"The world has a strange perspective. If they can't see the intimate moments between two people, they'll be convinced that these two people are not in love. They'll say these two people are not happy with each other, that maybe they're cheating on each other. They'll tell them to stop kidding themselves – they're not in love. But when you watch a superficial movie about two young teens falling in love, suddenly it's some passionate, altruistic relationship and it's undeniable that they're in love._

_"I dated a few girls, I'll admit. But when I was in my brother's wedding, in London, and I saw my sister-in-law's friend working there. Joshua's wife worked in London Theatre, you know. I saw her – this girl singing in the reception. For a moment, regardless of what I thought of love beforehand, I thought she was the light that never goes out."_

_Roach laughed at that statement. Ghost kicked him under the table and said, "Shut up. You've never fallen in love, have you? No; I didn't think so. Now, let the Captain talk before he gets cranky! How much do you want to bet he's never going to talk about this ever again?"_

**2007. **

**May**

Upon arriving to London, John only had one day in order to rest prior to attending his older brother's wedding. It didn't feel enough, though. Through the entire ceremony in the morning, his body welted through tiredness but felt the strange, warming affection for his brother and sister-in-law. He greeted them with altruistic love as he, in return, received heart-warming hellos. Some managed to surprise him by commenting how they didn't expect him to show – they had thought he already died!

Within the reception, he had reminisced with old friends and ex-girlfriends. He had discussed and joked with his older sister and brother, as well as teasing the bride. He had reminded his mother that he loved her dearly and thought of her whenever he was deployed. He had kept his interest as he gazed at dozens of attractive women in dresses. During the toasts, John had raised his glass in honour of his brother and congratulated the two. He had enjoyed the food – and was grateful on how delicious it tasted; it was a nice change, considering the food in the army was absolutely dull.

For a long period of time, John's attention had been focused on the little boy singing on stage, mostly because it wasn't a boy singing. He had been taken aback to listen to a young woman's voice come out of the little boy. Narrowing his eyes, he had finally seen the girl underneath the masculine clothes. With the fedora, dress shirt and tie and pants – _not to mention genuine cowboy boots that didn't even match _- how could have not mistaken her for a boy?

As almost an hour had gone, John had asked old friends to dance, out of politeness. His heart had childishly tugged toward the boyish wedding singer when had announced that an actual male was now taking over the vocals. She intended to have gone for a break but was instead pulled into a table filled with elderly men unnecessarily debating about England's politics. Out of courtesy, John had walked over to the table when noticing her boredom and asked her to dance.

Gratefully saying yes (all too quickly), she had thanked him repeatedly. Both of their gazes had cautiously turned to the elderly men and both of them had quickly made their way to the middle of the dance floor. Their small talk didn't last long as her sassiness and his witty conversation had taken over their spoken words.

And now, all of John's attention stayed with the boyish girl. His eyes lowered to scan at her attire as he noticed the tie and dress vest. Cleverly hiding underneath it, though, was a Star of David, which was the item that caught his eye. He looked back up to her eyes, smiling foolishly as he moved his hips to match to the moderate beat of the music. The girl played along as their hands clasped with each other in a dance position. Nothing seemed too formal, in John's perspective. It seemed… all right.

_Girl, you're my angel, you're my darling angel  
>Closer than my peeps you are to me, baby<br>Shorty, you're my angel, you're my darling angel  
>Girl, you're my friend when I'm in need, lady<em>

"I'm John MacTavish," he told her spontaneously. He smirked slightly at the thought of her impulsiveness rubbing off on him. "I'm…"

"…Joshua's younger brother," she grinned. "Your brother talks tons about you. I'm Madeline Desmarais, the wedding singer – only for tonight." John's eyebrows rose with interest. She then added on, answering all the basic questions, "I'm actually not from around here, since you're giving me this bizarre look like I'm some alien. I'm from Nova Scotia – which strangely means _New Scotland_ - in Canada. No, I'm not an actual singer. Your brother just didn't want to pay a large amount of money for a rip-off artist so he called in for a favour. I'm a student, really."

John blinked, later laughing. "Did you just read my mind?"

"It's just the questions I get around here. It's strange, really. Back in Canada, we'd all be asking for people to keep talking to listen to their accent. Here, it's the opposite. Joshua wouldn't let me shut up. He's never met a Canadian before, eh?" she asked. John chuckled at it and nodded.

"You said you were a student. Where are you studying? How old are you…?"

Madeline laughed loudly, unlike the other women in the reception. "I'm studying at King's College, Cambridge. I'm twenty-one."

"What do you study?"

"It's English. Actually, I'm just about to graduate this June. I want to be a teacher, eh? Back home, English was a fantastic year. I had the sassiest teachers ever. They'd let us joke around and that's how our ideas spurred. When I came here, most of my teachers were unbelievably strict and kept it silent. I kind of want to work here, as a teacher, and give some students here the vision of what it's like to walk into a classroom and get some inspiration. English isn't only about grammar and depicting opinions from poetry. It can be fun. I'd like to show that to some people.

"Oh, shoot – I've said way too much. Now, if you don't mind, may I ask questions about you?" she questioned.

"Aye; fire away."

"Your brother likes to talk about you and gloat about you being a soldier. So, you save the world, eh? Is that how you got your scar – striking down Tangos and being Oscar Mike? You're secretly saving the world without anyone's notice?" she joked, winking. John didn't bother to stop himself from being humoured. She talked in a funny way – like a child but at the same time old enough to keep a conversation with. It wasn't so serious.

_Yeah, my, my such-a-sweet thing  
>I wanna do everything.<br>What a beautiful feeling  
>Crimson and clover over and over<em>

John shook his head, still smiling. "Sorry; the story's not as great as Joshua makes it. I got this scar before I joined the military, actually. It was by my neighbour's dog." Madeline nodded slowly, allowing the information to sink in. She shrugged, her childish smiling returning and, from that moment, he knew that her mouth was about to open to say something outrageous.

"It must be easy getting some respect from the soldiers, isn't it?"

He grinned. "It _is!_ One visible scar and suddenly everyone thinks you're badass enough to go through anything." He cleared his throat and momentarily looked at the stage with the changed music. Looking back at her, he said, "Tell me something about your self, Maddi."

Madeline's eyes shot up at him when noticing he had shortened her name. She grinned slyly. "Alright; I'm a nerd for Doctor Who ever since I Christopher Eccleston and Billie Tyler on the show. I'm a Valentine's Day baby – I mean, I was born on the fourteenth! I can speak French. I also know sign language! What else? Let's see… The first thing that disappointed me about London was that there was _no _poutine. The first thing that made me ecstatic was the architecture, accents and culture. Oh, and I think spiders are absolute nightmares."

John raised an eyebrow. "You didn't tell me your favourite colour. Everyone has a favourite colour."

She smirked. "Not people who can't see them. Sorry, love; I'm colour-blind." John's expression turned almost horrified from his previous statement. About to apologize, Madeline began laughing and told him that it was no problem at all. "Just tell me about _you_."

He took a moment to think it through. "I hate dogs – can't stand them ever since I was twelve. I, uh, always wanted to be a soldier when I was little and now I'm living what I want. I've have crushed on almost all of my sister's girlfriends. It hurt knowing that I stood absolutely no chance, though. Anyway, when I was much younger, I brought in a skunk once to keep as a pet. And, when I was sixteen, my friends shaved my hair and I've kept the hairstyle ever since."

"I think that was a blessing in disguise," she grinned. He nodded in agreement and both laughed. Both of them received awkward looks from the other dancers. "Maybe we should get away from the dance floor and just head out, eh? We're bothering too many people here. At least it is cooler outside and we can laugh all we want. How 'bout it?"

Before he was able to open his mouth to agree, Madeline grabbed his hand and dragged him outside. For hours, the two spent their time giggling like children about their previous life experiences. Despite the fact that he had only known her for a few hours, and every piece of being uncomfortable had evaporated. They maniacally shouted, making fun of themselves and their previous stupidity.

Watching her movement, he looked past her boyish, "unnoticeable" features and appreciated her faint curves, mostly outlined by her bold physical movements. He noticed the way Madeline's hands had moved as she talked. He attempted to suppress the smile he had whenever listening to her Canadian-accented voice. What interested him the most was when she finally removed that damned fedora of hers, allowing her curly brown hair to fall to her shoulders. Now, her appearance looked like she had stolen clothes from a man.

Having to depart, both exchanged numbers with the intent of seeing each other again. He watched her being to walk away, but found his self confused when seeing her turn around to face him. She moved her feet toward him and did not stop until her hand slipped behind his neck and her lips pressed against his. His heart instinctively paused.

"I would have regretted it if I didn't do that," she said, shrugging. Stunned, John's eyes could not blink as she disappeared behind the door to re-enter the building. His hands froze with the thought that even after eight years of being secluded, he still managed to find himself in a whirlwind. His jaw slightly slacked.

He only managed to saying, "Holy _shit_."

_Roach's mouth opened but failed to provide any audible words. Ghost merely looked impressed as he said, "You saw her again, right?" MacTavish nodded while leaning against his seat while placing his hands on his head. _

_"Oh, I saw her. For everyday while I was home, or, err, in London, I saw her – all the way until I was deployed again. She stuck out, you know? She was some sort of tomboy. She loved to joke around. She had a twisted but hilarious sense of humour. Maddi used me as a test dummy on her jokes, actually, especially with having an audio of a dog barking just to scare me. But I loved her, regardless of what she did. I don't know why. Maybe it was because she made every damn day so bloody interesting. She never watched life – she lived it._

_"I agree; she was a little weird one. These cowboy boots were hers. They were her lucky charm. She wore it for everything – her graduation at King's College, her job interview, her first day at work, and pretty much at everything else. She was… quirky. You could spend one hour with her and you'd fall in love with her weird, bubbly personality. She smiled all the time. I always wondered if I lived on the wrong continent, if all Canadians or Americans were like that…" _

_"I had this one problem with her, though. As a kid, I was afraid of people getting into car crashes ever since my sister's friend got herself injured. Maddi, though, always liked to speed. I don't think she intended to do it. She just did. I got into the habit of reminding her every day two things: that I loved her, and for her to slow the hell down. I mean, she spent a lot of time in the hospital in her childhood because she was accident prone. You would think that it would scare her into precaution. Damn girl. _

_"Anyway, too many people told me that we'd never get along, that our being apart would break this relationship. But you know what? I had faith in Maddi. I loved her enough to trust her with everything I had…"_

**I'm going to ask you all for one thing right now: please be considerate when criticizing Madeline! There is a reason why she acts to bubbly and quirky, but I'll have to reveal that part later. Anyway, this **_**is**_** the end of Chapter VII! I am also reminding you to please review this chapter. Constructive criticism and comments will be highly appreciated! Flames will be used to find Makarov! **

**By the way, the lyrics came from "Angel" by Shaggy and "Clover & Crimson" by Tommy James & the Shondells.**

**Chapter Title: **_**How Can I Miss You When You Won't Go Away? By Dan Hicks and His Hot Licks**_**  
>Chapter Question: <strong>_**Do you believe in love at first sight? Please elaborate! (This will be used for future writing references.)**_

**Review for not-so-mini-MacTavish! **


	8. I'll Marry You Tomorrow

**Chapter VIII: I'll Marry You Tomorrow but Let's Honeymoon Tonight**_**  
>Chapter Genre<strong>__: Romance, Humour, General**  
>Chapter Character(s)<strong>__: Twenty-five year old John MacTavish, Madeline Desmarais / Ghost, Roach**  
>Chapter Summary<strong>__: They met during a wedding. They loved it so much that they decided to have on of their own._

_X_

_"With this hand I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never be empty, for I will be your wine. With this candle, I will light your way into darkness. With this ring, I ask you to be mine."_  
>– <em>Victor, Corpse Bride<em>

_In the following morning, Ghost and Roach rushed down to the private dining area to meet MacTavish. They found their captain already consuming his breakfast while looking at a wedding ring and a picture. Ghost immediate sat down, lacing his fingers with each other. Roach mentally reminded himself to keep his mind closed when it came to saying something immature about falling in love._

_MacTavish's eyebrow raised in question as he asked toward Ghost, "Sleep well?" The lieutenant nodded his head but yawned anyway. His hand reached for the box and pulled out the photograph._

_"Is this Madeline?" he had asked. He flipped it around to show to his captain. _

_"Aye; that's her."_

_Roach stumbled to the table, slamming his self to gaze at the familiar photograph. They stared at a young woman in her early twenties with a cheeky smile, her bluish-green eyes looking up at MacTavish. Her brown, curly locks were held into a tie behind her veil. An obviously pre-owned wedding dress draped over her petite physique as her hand grasped into the bouquet of lilies. They immediately recognized the Star of David around her neck along with the brown pair of cowboy boots. Her left hand had a gold-and-silver wedding ring, at the same time her fingers entwining with MacTavish's. _

_Roach recognized the ring and saw it in the box. "May I ask a question?"_

_"Aye."_

_"Why do you have Maddi's ring?"_

_MacTavish responded by laughing in a near-eerie way. Roach and Ghost dropped it and continued looking at the photograph. _

_In the photo, he was dressed up in his ceremonial uniform as a soldier. His facial expression contained a careless and teasing grin as he kissed her cheek in the photograph. His right hand – the one not occupied by Madeline's hand – rested on her shoulder, bringing her closer to him._

_"Oh my God, you two are like _kids_!" Roach laughed. MacTavish nodded again. _

_"I married her on May 4 – a little bit more than a year after I met her. But what's more nerve-wracking than a wedding is a proposal, only because I planned the damn wedding before I even asked her."_

_Roach and Ghost exchanged expressions. "Why?"_

**2007.**

**May**

There was no sex. It was just both of their bodies, fully clothed, lying on Madeline's mattress in her flat in London. The morning's sun's rays peered through the large window beside her bed, audaciously illuminating the room. John's muscular arms had wrapped around her petite shoulders as the two roused from their slumber. His fingers entwined with hers as suddenly his mind forced him to finally wake up.

He smelled the soft scent of coffee coming from her. Grinning, he kissed the back of her head and whispered, "Maddi… Maddi, wake up." Unable to see her face, she mumbled something under her breath and stopped moving. Her soft breathing touched his hands and he knew very well that she had once again fallen asleep.

John used one of his fingers to play with her brown locks. He wondered how it was even possible to keep such curly, long hair without it being a complete inconvenience. This thought led him to wonder why every woman he met smelled fantastic. Did they even bother to try or were they just born to smell tempting? John also questioned about their so-called magical powers. How did they bring men to their knees by simply pouting or by doing nothing at all? He could try it, but he worried what the outcome might be. Bloody girls – he'll never understand them.

Sighing, he held her tighter. Not knowing if she was listening, he said to her anyway, "You know, I've always wanted to marry you ever since I saw you on that stage. For a second, I thought you were a boy." He paused. "I didn't even know your name." He chuckled at the humorous memory, later pausing to listen if she had risen awake.

There was no response.

_God, I could wake up every morning like this. _Lifting himself with one bare arm, John began poking her side. "Bloody girl, will you wake up?" He laughed as she began squealing, trying to move out of the tickling range. With an annoyed look – but adorable to his perspective – on her face, she lifted her pillow and smacked his face with it. He grunted on impact and impulsively grabbed his own, throwing at her. She had already dashed out of her bedroom, running through her flat as John leapt out of bed to chase after her.

He listened to her maniacal laughing as he followed her into the kitchen. John managed to catch a glimpse of her diving behind the couch and he began to snicker. He shouted as he neared her, "Maddi, did you think you could outrun a _soldier_?" He opened his palms to grab for her ankles, dragging her out of her hiding spot. Out of nowhere, though, a Nerf bullet struck his shoulder, catching him off guard.

The Nerf gun clattered to the floor as she dashed off again, leaving him to laugh at the strange gesture. She leapt above the obstacles and tried to keep away from him while grinning, but was cut off by John. He wrapped his strong arms around her, tackling her down to the floor as his fingers laced with hers, pinning her down to the wooden floor. She panted slightly, mostly from laughing, as she stuck her tongue out at him.

"I win," he simply said. Madeline guffawed childishly.

"What is it going to take you to get off of me?" she questioned. Mocking a thoughtful face, John smirked deviously.

"A bargain," he notified.

She sneered. "Do you promise to keep it?" John nodded.

"I'd cross my heart if I had one."

Silence consumed the two lying on the floor. She then whispered, "You have a heart, silly. It's right there." She pointed at his chest and continued, "You just forgot it was there." John attempted to suppress a smile but failed to do so. She giggled and said, "Alright; let's have it."

"Well, you didn't hear what I said earlier…"

"But I did!" she argued, her heterochromic eyes widened. "You talk a lot when you think no one's listening." She winked at him. John merely smirked at her humour and shook his head. He should have known.

John's lips lowered, nearing her ear as he whispered, "Marry me, kid." Madeline's smile widened ear-to-ear, as if expecting the statement. Even though her face maintained that clever, knowing expression he grew to love, his chest pressed against her and he could feel the acceleration of her heart. This satisfied him.

Her voice surprisingly came out softly, "I guess I have no choice but to love you for the rest of my life."

"Is that a yes?" he questioned. A moment came in between them until Madeline nodded. John's modest smile widened and he rolled off of her. His arms, however, wrapped around her petite body as he stood, lifting her up into the air. Her shaped hands gripped the back of his head as her lips met his, pulling back to leave him more. He backed her into the wall and said, "Tomorrow. It needs to happen tomorrow."

Growing puzzled, she titled her face. Her gaze softened when it came to realization. "You knew I was going to say yes, didn't you? Darn you, John."

"I don't need some screwed up accident coming in between us or having a surprise deployment call in before we actually _do_ get married. Now; it needs to happen now." He kissed her forehead while grabbing her hands. Her eyes remained knowing and she immediately agreed, foolishly raising her eyebrows at him.

His lips pressed against her cheek as the photographer flashed the camera at them, their hands preoccupied with juggling several items, such as a bouquet and picture frames over their faces. Madeline gripped the bouquet of lilies as her hands played with the white wedding dress. Her feet were covered by her old lucky cowboy boots as she turned her eyes to her now husband. She glared at him, knowing that he had _everything_ planned prior to asking her. It was like a bloody surprise birthday party… but in the form of a wedding.

John's family congratulated the two of them as he toyed with her veil, causing her to erupt in laughter. Their explosions of childish actions allowed them to receive odd stares of disbelief. It was awkward to see a soldier in uniform act so careless and frivolous, but at the same time it bothered no one. In fact, it entertained them.

"You only asked her _yesterday?_" John's brother questioned. "Was that in your planner? Propose to Madeline Desmarais on May 3, 2007 and get married to her twenty-four hours later? You're crazy, Soap. You're bloody insane. What if she said 'no'?"

Before answer Joshua, she leaned over to John and whispered, "He _still_ calls you that?" Madeline's hyperactive eyebrow rose toward Joshua. "Okay, first, bro: it's Madeline _MacTavish_. Second, I wouldn't have." She displayed her teeth with a smile and head-locked her brother-in-law. "Face it, bigger bro: you've got a crazy as a part of the family."

John crossed his arms. His sister leaned in over to him and whispered, "I'm surprised she didn't show up in a tux." Josephine winked at him. "Have fun! She's going to be a handful."

_"She was worth it," MacTavish noted. "She did nearly everything I could think of. But you know what she didn't do? Eat bacon." _

_Roach's lips scrunch together. "Why?"_

_"She's Jewish, wanker," Ghost sighed arrogantly. "All they've taught you in school was bollocks, mate. You sound like an idiot every time you open your mouth. I guess we should be grateful that you're a good marksman…" His attention went back to his captain. "Maddi sounds ace, MacTavish. How'd you survive deployments?"_

_He sneered deeply. "I haven't a clue. But I can tell you what made it worth while."_

**That concludes Chapter VIII! I'm just going to leave you off with a friendly reminder to review this chapter. Constructive criticism and comments will be highly appreciated! Flames will be used to find Makarov, because he's a douche. I mean, I'd definitely use it to burn Shepherd but he's dead. Hoorah!**

**Chapter Title: **_** I'll marry you tomorrow but let's Honeymoon Tonight by Joey Stampley**_**  
>Chapter Question: <strong>_**Tell me your dream proposal. (This will be used for future writing references.)**_

**Review for not-so-mini-MacTavish! (: Here, have cookies. **


	9. I Forgot to Remember to Forget

**Chapter IX: I Forgot to Remember to Forget**_**  
>Chapter Genre<strong>__: Romance, Humour**  
>Chapter Character(s)<strong>__: Twenty-five year old John MacTavish, his wife (Madeline MacTavish) / Ghost, Roach**  
>Chapter Summary<strong>__: Everyone's seen how John MacTavish is as a soldier. How is he as a husband? What's he like outside the world of war?_

_X_

_"My heart and I surrender themselves into your hands."_  
>– <em>King Henry VIII, the Other Boleyn Girl<em>

_MacTavish took a sip of his coffee, remembering the smell of Madeline. "There wasn't a quiet day in our flat. She had these bizarre ways of waking me up. It was never the same. Maddi would pop balloons or wipe some icing on my face. Maybe she'd turn on the radio on the loudest volume possible, just so I could hear my favourite song. Sometimes she wouldn't even wake me up and I'd find her taking a shower."_

_Roach grinned dirtily. "Did you ever do her?"_

_With a bored expression, MacTavish rephrased, "You mean, 'did I sleep with my wife?' Yes, among other things."_

_"…Sounds kinky, sir," Ghost winked._

**2007. **

**June**

John stared out in front of him, watching Madeline airily scribble on her drawing pad. Neither said anything as the noise of her pen scratched against the paper and hard surface. Curious to see what she inked on the white sheet of paper, John casually leaned his body over to try and sneak a peek.

Madeline's foot suddenly made contact with his face, obnoxiously pushing him back to his original spot. Her eyes did not even leave the page as he suddenly backed away. His large hands gripped her ankles, his eyes narrowing with annoyance. To bother her, he sniffed her foot but failed to gain her attention. John rolled his eyes at his peculiar wife.

"Your feet stink."

Madeline's eyes shot up at him, followed with moments filled with her outrageous laughter.

"But you love it, eh?"

He grinned, nodding.

* * *

><p><strong>July<strong>

Using his thumb to press the button on the telly's remote control, his attention swayed over to the young woman pacing at his right. He raised his eyebrow with odd interest, watching her face as she made strange facial expressions of thought. He began to wonder what on earth the insane woman could be thinking about, and in about two minutes of looking at her, he gave in.

"Maddi, what are you doing?"

Her feet continued to wear out the wooden floor in their flat. "If Cinderella's shoe fit _perfectly_, then why did it fall off in the first place?"

Catching John off guard, his eyes peeled off the TV entirely. "Excuse me?"

Madeline's eyes gazed at him with question. "What's another word for thesaurus?"

Both of his eyebrows rose as he came to no proper answer in order to solve her eccentric inquiries. She continued to trudge around the living room, her brown locks bouncing to every step. His attention was undivided as she continued with her rant of unnecessary questions.

"If you're underwater, are you able to cry? Why do noses _run_ and feet _smell_? If you expect the unexpected, then isn't the unexpected _expected_?" Madeline paused as her finger tapped against her chin. John's eyes only remained widened with utter confusion, leaving his jaw slacked.

"Bloody hell, woman," he said loudly. He was about to begin to talk back to her about her obscure questions. He then was pulled into realization that he had no answers. "I have no clue."

* * *

><p><strong>September<strong>

Leaving home was something that pained John terribly, but walking back into familiar territory reminded him why it was worth the wait. He did not inform Madeline about his return from his first 5-week deployment since their wedding, so he intended to surprise her. He silently unlocked the door that led into the flat he adored so much.

The first thing he had noticed was the fresh smell of French Vanilla Cappuccino. He was overwhelmed with the feeling of home, wanting to dash right to Madeline. _God_, did he ever miss that insane woman.

Instead, just as he appeared through the doorway to the living room, he heard a voice he recognized to be a colleague of Madeline's. He only heard the question of, "Is he good in bed? I mean, he's a soldier; hard bodies, soft kisses. He's sexy by default." He immediately smacked his face with his hand, shaking his head.

Before allowing Madeline to answer her friend, he stepped through the hallway and answered, "Well, I don't mean to brag, but…"

Both of them women snapped their attention behind them, gazing at the tall Scotsman smugly smirking at them; his large arms crossing against his chest. Madeline's bluish eyes widened at the sight of him, followed with a shriek of delight. Her legs jumped over the couch and immediately wrapped her limps around his body. He laughed deeply, holding her up as he kissed her multiple of times.

His blue eyes turned to the friend, noticing the blood rush to her cheeks. He merely commented, "Hi; how'ya doing?" The friend merely grinned sheepishly before bidding both of them goodbye in embarrassment.

Alone, Madeline narrowed her eyes in a mocking glare. Referring to his previous statement, she said, "You're such a show off."

* * *

><p><strong>October <strong>

Looking up at the clock, John directed his shout to their bedroom as he exclaimed, "Maddi, you're going to be late for work! Get your tiny ass down here!" This cued the scurrying of footsteps as Madeline nearly crashed into the wall, reaching for her car keys. John's eyes immediately noticed the red t-shirt with the words saying, '_Hello, my name is Trouble.'_ The corners of his lips raised in a smirk, knowing that a T-Shirt had never been more right.

He stepped in front of her before she dashed right out of the door, placing his hands on her shoulders.

"Hey, Kid; what's with the shirt?"

She looked down with a questioning face. "What; you don't like it?"

"They let you wear that to teach?" He paused. "Were teachers like this when you were in secondary school?"

Madeline's lips smirked knowing and nodded. Her hands fell on top of his, entwining her fingers with his. "Yes. Besides, act like a kid and the students relate. It's how I get my work done. Now, I'm going to be late, _Johnny._ May I leave?" She grinned widely, acting childish yet again.

He wondered how it was even possible for the woman to be certified to teach secondary school. He kissed the top of her forehead first before proceeding to taste her lips. "Slow down when you drive, you crazy woman. I don't need your car on the news tonight. There's already that bloody chance you'll be on it for escaping an asylum."

She giggled as a response, taking her time out the door. Before closing it, she popped her head in and said, "Have I reminded you this morning that I love you?"

John smirked. "Yes, you did; right when you woke up. Twice. Now, get out, muppet, or you're really going to be late." He listened to her full-hearted laugh as she closed the door, locking it. He said to his self, "Damn, I love these mornings…"

* * *

><p><strong>November<strong>

"John?"

"Aye?"

"May I have a hug?"

Looking up at the door to their bedroom, John noticed Madeline standing in front of him with a frustrated and frightened look on her face. He raised an eyebrow while listening to the howling wind, drumming rain and thunder crashes. Madeline attempted to hide the jump and small yelp as John stifled his laughter. He immediately stood up, instinctively wrapping his arms around the young woman.

Without warning, he lifted her body, leading her onto the bed to allow the blankets provide a sense of comfort. She smiled gratefully toward him before allowing his arms to wrap around her, closing her eyes when resting her head against his chest. He stilled had work to finish on the laptop, but something compelled him to stay with Madeline.

It wasn't long until he could hear her soft breathing. He knew that she was asleep, finally dreaming away from her irrational fear. He began to compare the sights of watching the other soldiers sleep, anxious, and watching Madeline sleep, peaceful and unafraid.

He began to reminisce about the days prior to their current moment. He thought about the time Madeline had bought several bouquets of poppies for soldiers in the cemeteries and graveyards and had placed them on their gravestone. She had noted that day, "No one deserves to be forgotten, _especially_ heroes." Madeline had also given one to him, as a thank you for his service.

John kissed the top of her forehead as he noticed the silence in the sky. "Silly girl," he whispered. "I'm not going to let anything hurt you."

* * *

><p><strong>December<strong>

Communicating through a webcam, John sat with his laptop as Madeline laughed once again with her loud voice. Through the screen she said, "You found _this_ on my dashboard." She raised her hand to show a small piece of paper with the words, _'Fasten your seatbelt. Someone needs you._'

John nodded. "Who else is going to prevent you from speeding in your car?" Madeline tilted eyebrow and displayed an expression with gratitude. "Don't worry. At least this deployment is only two months, unlike last year's. It was almost bloody seven months."

Madeline agreed. The two continued to converse for hours until Madeline dropped a pen she had bitten. John noticed that she stared down at the floor but refused to retrieve it.

"Maddi, pick it up," he smirked. Madeline shot a questioning look.

"No. I want it to suffer."

John remained stunned for several moments before bursting out into laughter, earning awkward looks from the soldiers around him. He then told her, "You know, Kid; your crippling awkwardness is extremely arousing." Madeline raised two thumbs at him and displayed a sly smirk. Both of them remained guffawing in their inside jokes.

"I know I don't say it enough," Madeline whispered, knowing that their conversation was coming to an end. "But I'm in love with you, and I wanted to remind you before you go." She smiled sweetly at him in the most mundane yet precious way he had ever seen her. Her words seemed so calm that it nearly frightened him. Nonetheless, her honesty warmed his heart.

"Happy Hanukkah, Maddi," John told her. "I'll see you in February."

Their screens shot to black, allowing their only connection to be severed.

_Ghost lowered his eyes. "You have some strange taste in women," he chuckled. Roach smirked widely and leaned his upper body onto the table. He lazily ate several snacks as he continued to listen to MacTavish's memories. "But she sounds like a good girl. Didn't you ever fight?"_

_"We argued over the pettiest things," he admitted. "She didn't hold grudges, though. Maddi was definitely forgiving. She never wanted to leave the room without making up, especially if it was when I was leaving. I figured she didn't want me to hear us argue as my last memory."_

_He paused. _

_It was obvious that the captain had gone into deep thought, but the silence felt uncomfortable for the sergeant. Roach then spoke up, "Did you ever have any trouble picking a gift for her?" Roach saw MacTavish's eyes light up in remembrance._

_"Dear Lord, I did. It was on her birthday, too."_

**The next two chapters will consist with little moments like these, some funnier than others. I just really want to portray MacTavish more as a human and the fact that he **_**does**_** have feelings. Anyway, here's another reminder for you to review. Constructive criticism and comments will be highly appreciated! Flames will be used to hunt down Makarov and to help warm MacTavish while he's out serving for the military. Hoorah!**

**Chapter Title: **_**I Forgot to Remember to Forget by the Beatles**_**  
>Chapter Question: <strong>_**Tell me what kind of date MacTavish would enjoy. (This will be used for future writing references.)**_

**Review for not-so-mini-MacTavish!**


	10. She Came Through the Bathroom Window

**Chapter X: She Came Through the Bathroom Window**_**  
>Chapter Genre<strong>__: Romance, Humour**  
>Chapter Character(s)<strong>__: Twenty six year old John MacTavish, his wife (Madeline MacTavish) / Ghost, Roach**  
>Chapter Summary<strong>__: Every relationship has its ups and downs. Sometimes, MacTavish can't tell which one it is._

_X_

_"You're so wrapped up in layers onion boy, you're afraid of your own feelings!"_  
>– <em>Donkey, Shrek<em>

_Roach laughed whole heartedly. "Women are confusing."_

_The three men walked outside into the lot, entering the vehicle, as MacTavish placed a bouquet of lilies with one poppy in the back seat. MacTavish promised them to show them the most important sentimental object. Ghost had placed the box containing their captain's things into the back seat as their drive began. Roach stuffed his hand into the box and pulled out a record and a CD. Plopping the CD to play, they began to listen to the burned disc._

_"She gave those to me," MacTavish told them. "She burned all of my favourite songs into one disc. She also found the record of _that_ song and added it as a gift. It's a simple, brilliant gesture. You listen to the song and they're all you think about."_

_You take the breath right out of me.  
>You left a hole where my heart should be.<br>You got to fight just to make it through,  
>'Cause I will be the death of you.<em>

**2008.**

**February**

He had placed around the flat as John had remained shirtless when he conversed with his sister on the other side of the telephone. He had silently thanked God that Madeline was at work, leaving him able to think through the stressful event of buying his wife a birthday present.

"She likes _everything_! That's what makes it so bloody frustrating!" John had sighed. He had listened to his sister laugh on the other line.

His sister had mocked him, "Stay frosty, John!"

It had taken him two days with conversations of dozens of Madeline's friends before finally gaining the proper idea of what to get her. And, on her birthday, John had woken up just before she did to place the wrapped present beside her face.

John had _just_ finished cooking break fast for her when her familiar laughter and squeals of delight erupted from the bedroom. He grinned to himself as she popped her head into the kitchen, bubbly sniffing the air as she bounced on the wooden floor. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she continuously thanked him, kissing all over his face.

In her hands were three novels – one titled '_The Zombie Survival Guide', _one titled '_How to Take over the World'_ and the other '_14 000 Things to be Happy About_.' Her fingers also laced with a theatrical mask, one that resembled a Renaissance masquerade.

Madeline kissed him square on the lips as she exclaimed, "John, this is _perfect_!" She breathed, running her hand through her hair. Her eyes stared at him. "My students already think you're an amazing husband – at least, by the way I'm talking about you during class. Now… you've just reached a level I never though possible."

John laughed loudly, his arms wrapping around her. "You talk about me during class? Dear Lord, Maddi – what do you teach your kids?"

Her eyes filled with sass. "Well, I tell kids about your life experiences and hopefully they'll get inspired by the strange things we do. They thought I made you up when I first told them, eh? You're wonderful, you know that?"

Guffawing, he invited her to eat breakfast.

"Are you sure you _have to_ work today?"

* * *

><p><strong>March<strong>

A low growl escaped John's lips as he held the phone next to his ear. Madeline, who placed her lips on areas of his neck, grinned slyly as their game continued. Her competitive side emerged as the two locked eyes, stifling their laughter as they kept their bodies resting on the mattress.

Of course, this wasn't their first time playing _The Phone Moan Challenge_. Either Madeline or John would be attempted to be _sexually_ aroused by the other, trying to hold in their moans or any noise that would give away their actions while having a normal conversation on the phone. The person put up to the challenge would not be able to lie. That was the whole point, really – if the person on the other side of the phone asked what they were doing or guessed that they were playing, they'd lose. The objective was to keep the conversation going for as long as they could.

In the current moment, John's time ticked against the clock, nearing Madeline's time. She began to search harder for an area of weakness as her trail of kisses led down to his chest. Her hands mischievously teased him as a soft moan unintentionally erupted from his lips. He slapped his hand over his mouth, his eyes widening from the horror.

John's brother called out over the phone, "Damn, John; what are you doing over there?"

Madeline's eyes lit up at the voice, suddenly bursting out into laughter. She was sure that Joshua could hear her exclaimed, "This is going to be close! Check the time! Check the time!"

Both memorized Madeline's time to be _8:36_. John's eyes looked down to the telephone screen to see the time, _8:42_. He whooped loudly as Madeline screamed out with defeat. Both of them snickered over the phone, re-challenging each other to another round.

John's brother remained confused on the line. "Oh my God, are you two _sleeping_ with each other while on the phone?"

* * *

><p><strong>April<strong>

Their dates were never particularly regular.

When heading out for the night, sometimes they would spend their time at the library, sneakily placing sheets of papers that contained absurd jokes into books. They unknowingly trained themselves how to laugh quietly – or at least do it without being caught by the strict library – as the two adults fooled around. Sometimes they would, instead, place sheets of inspiration within the books, reminding that the person holding the book was beautiful or unique in some way.

Other dates consisted of them acting out a silent film in front of a security camera. Occasionally, there would be people joining them into a Flash Mob of mimes.

There were times when the two would pull all-nighters, watching horror movies until dawn or placing it on mute and creating their own dialogue. Safe to say, their dates were never typical and never repeated – at least, they almost never did. And, at the moment, John focused on infiltrating Madeline's blanket-fort that contained her cookies which _she_ guarded.

Entering the bedroom, which was messily covered with blankets and pillows, John silently walked around to hide himself in the dark. He did not hear or see Madeline in the room, which gave him a sense of both courage and anxiousness. Where was the crazy girl? He hadn't a clue, but he might as well take a running chance of stealing a piece of freshly baked chocolate chipped cookies.

He had barely been able to take a step out when Madeline shot him with a Nerf gun. He stood there, stunned, while blinking toward Madeline. She grinned evilly before dashing to the plate of cookies.

"Oh no, you don't!" he shouted, throwing his entire body at her. They both softly landed against the fort of blankets and pillows as the two began to fight for the right to eat cookies.

No. Their dates were _never_ particularly regular.

* * *

><p><strong>May<strong>

_Maddi, open the door please!_

John sent the text message to Madeline's phone as he casually leaned against the door as he stared at his own phone. Surprisingly quick, he received his reply.

_OK! Hold on, though. I'm not dressed yet._

Grinning like a devious teenager, John moved his thumbs against the phone's pad and replied back to her.

_WAIT; STAY LIKE THAT. Just open the door!_

The warm air after sunset around him caused him to become impatient. His neighbours passed by as they greeted him. At the same time, his phone vibrated.

_BRB my goldfish are drowning._

John laughed out loud, knowing it was such a typical thing for her to do. He waited for several moments before the all-too-familiar door finally opened, displaying her in casual clothes and moist hair. He mocked a disappointed sigh as she grinned devilishly, only to have him hug her tightly, swaying her back and forth.

"Happy anniversary, love," he told her. "I've gone on that bloody scavenger's hunt of yours and _oh my God_, your present is brilliant." John lifted the vintage record of _Crimson & Clover by Tommy James and the Shondells_ as well as a burned CD of all his favourite songs. She laughed lightly, twirling her body around so she could jump on his back. He sighed, slowly bringing her to the bedroom. The last words he said were, "You know, Kid; putting your clothes on was really redundant."

* * *

><p><strong>December<strong>

The deployment had lasted long – too bloody long for John's sanity. For seven months, he had been away from Madeline. And, in seven months, she had redecorated the entire flat. Her pillow cases consisted inspiration quotes written by a permanent pen. He nearly didn't recognize the flat when arriving home on Christmas.

For him, she had set up a Christmas tree, despite the fact that she didn't even celebrate the holiday. She had presents from her students scattered under the tree with thank you cards from graduated students. With the warmth and comfort, he couldn't have asked for a better "welcome home."

Spending the night out, their families and friends called in to wish them happy holidays.

_"Hey, this is John –"_

_"…And Maddi!"_

_"…and Maddi MacTavish. Leave a message after the tone and we'll get back to you as soon as we can." _

Their recorded voices were heard every time their unanswered calls were made. Laughing was heard from the recording and each caller rolled their eyes at their oddness.

Finally returning home from their yet again bizarre celebration, Madeline and John listened to the messages they received over Christmas Eve.

"Message One:_ It's me, Josephine. I think you've gotten my postcard, right, John? Anyway, my girl and I are doing alright. We've been travelling; I guess that's all to say. Anyway: happy holidays, you two. I'll talk to you soon._

"Message Two_: Mr. and Mrs. MacTavish, where are you guys on the holidays? It's Joshua. Maddi, do you have John locked up in a closet again? Is he still telling you to slow down on the speeding? He's a little meticulous about that. Anyway, I'll try you guys again later. Happy Christmas!_

"Message Three: _John, I haven't seen you in moths! It's your old pal, Benjamin. I hope you haven't gotten yourself killed. Well, you bastard, you don't die easily, do you? Alright; I'll leave you alone with Maddi. Merry Christmas to you both!_

"Message Four: _John, it's Josephine again –_"

"Are you going to go through all of that?" John asked Madeline as she handed him a cup of hot chocolate. Both of them sat by the telephone as they held their Nerf guns. "If your family comes in just because they hear the machine playing, it will be entirely your fault if we lose!" he chuckled.

"We've been at this for about thirty-six hours. Can't we at least tell your family that we're not actually being chased by zombies yet?" she grinned.

_"You guys were 'zombie slaying' for Christmas?" Roach had asked, listening to the CD that Madeline had burned. His goofy smiled returned as he tapped to the beat. "Your wife is so cool." He began to mouth the lyrics to the songs that played while peering outside his window. They had returned to the highway, this time having MacTavish drive._

_He grinned half-heartedly. "I told you. No day was typical."_

_Ghost flipped his wrist to gaze at his watch. "You said her birthday was on February 14__th__. That's today. She's turning, what, thirty-one?" He nodded and leaned back to his seat, playing with his seat belt._

_"Can we go meet her?" Roach requested. MacTavish chuckled._

_"That's where we're headed to," he responded. "Half an hour left of driving."_

**That concludes the 2008 year/Chapter Ten! I'm only going to remind you to review for the chapter. The books that MacTavish gave to Madeline were (respectively) by Max Brooks and Barbara Ann Kipfer. The lyrics belong to **_**Breath by Breaking Benjamin. **_**Constructive criticism and comments will be highly appreciated! Flames will be used to hunt down Makarov! Hoorah!**

**Chapter Title: **_**She Came Through the Bathroom Window by the Beatles**_**  
>Chapter Question<strong>_**: Would you do anything that MacTavish and Madeline do? (This will be used for future writing references.)**_

**Review for not-so-mini-MacTavish!**


	11. Every Time I Eat Vegetables

**Chapter XI: Every Time I Eat Vegetables It Makes Me Think Of You**_**  
>Chapter Genre<strong>__: Romance, Humour**  
>Chapter Character(s)<strong>__: Twenty-seven year old John MacTavish, his wife (Madeline MacTavish) / Ghost, Roach**  
>Chapter Summary<strong>__: With John being deployed more and more often, the two take their mediocre and mundane moments and switch it to high gear. _

_X_

_"My heart [...] belongs to you. And if you wanted it, I'd wish for nothing in exchange - no gifts. No goods. No demonstrations of devotion. Nothing but knowing you loved me too. Just your heart, in exchange for mine."_  
>– <em>Yvaine, Stardust <em>

_"Do you have anymore memories to share?" Roach asked._

_MacTavish stayed silently for a while, continuously driving in the highway. "Actually, in the oh-nine year, a lot of things were beginning to change."_

_Ghost eyed his captain carefully while watching the young sergeant in his peripheral. MacTavish's ring was clearly visible as he gripped the steering well, his eyes concentrated on the road ahead of them. He obviously listened to the music playing. His response was less lively. Ghost began to guess that MacTavish was getting nervous. Did his captain honestly distrust them that much to be nervous allowing the two to meet?_

_"What changed?" Ghost asked._

_MacTavish flashed a smile and said, "Everything, mate."_

**2009.**

**June**

A familiar screamed ran through the halls of the flat. Hastily, Madeline bolted out of the bathroom and into the living room with a terrified look etched upon her face. She sulked, which resulted in John quizzically raising an eyebrow at her. Her eyes stared back at the bathroom as she hid behind the couch.

"John, are you braver than me?"

His confused expression changed into a face of disbelief. "No," he replied sarcastically. She pushed his shoulder.

"Can you get rid of a spider?" She paused. "Don't kill it, though!"

Rolling his eyes in good humour, he stood up without any fear and trudged into bathroom. Moments of silence were noticed by Madeline until it erupted with John shouting and cussing, mentioning the unbelievable size of the spider in the shower. Crashes were her as he escaped the bathroom, his face mangled with terror.

"How the _hell_ do spiders that big get in here?" he questioned as he pressed his back against the wall. "That is _not_ natural, Maddi. We might have to nuke the room." John attempted to smile but found himself still disturbed by the creature. His wife leaned against the couch with her arms crossed.

The Scot and the Canadian resorted to waiting out in front of the bathroom door with weapons in hand (which consisted of a broom, a frying pan, a Nerf gun, and a plastic bowl). The two watched, waiting for the eight-legged freak to crawl out of the small room.

"I feel like a prisoner," John sighed. "How long is it going to stay in there? I say we run in there, turn the tap and drain it." He turned his head to stare at her.

"Can't we just set it free?"

His gaze turned back to the bathroom door, which remained ajar. "It looks like we're going to be here for awhile."

* * *

><p><strong>July<strong>

Getting off of his phone, he casually watched his wife re-read the novels he had given to her on her twenty-third birthday. Despite the fact that she was one of those carefree hippies, he knew her to be one of the most dependable people in his life. How else could she do her job?

After congratulating his brother and sister-in-law with their newborn child, John began to unintentionally allow his imagination of conjure up whatever ideas it contained. At the moment, he began to wonder how his older brother – who was once a rebellious musician – could handle one of the biggest changes in a person's life. He attempted to empathize. Would he, John MacTavish, be able to act as a father?

He couldn't see any ordeal with Madeline. She already spent her professional life with kids, therefore making her a natural to relate. She was childish, but he had seen her take on responsibility and leadership roles as he did in his occupation. She just chose, for the times that she could, to live life in ways others could not see. He admired her for that. Ultimately, he could see her as a good mother. All he wondered was if _he_ could take on the challenge.

"Maddi," he suddenly said out loud. Her eyes shot up to stare at him. Without paying attention, he asked, "Would I make a good father?"

Her eyes became confused. "Do you know something I don't?"

* * *

><p><strong>August<strong>

"You got here pretty fast. You didn't speed, did you?"

John closed the door after Madeline entered the house, seeing Joshua and his wife with their kid. She shook her head, kicked off her cowboy boots and went straight for the unopened boxes the two had just retrieved. With knew pieces of furniture, the two knew that the boxes held something more than the appliances: bubble wrap.

The two acted quickly as they ripped open the boxes, laying the bubble wrap on the floor. Madeline assisted the baby as they both started stomping on the bubble wrap, popping it with each amount of pressure. Out of no where, her hand grabbed John's as the two began to enjoy their small joy.

_Damn it, Maddi_, John thought. Everything she did with their nephew fed into his litter wondrous fantasy of being a father. His mind was then interrupted at the feeling and sound of the bubble wrap under his feet, and his smile of content changed into a smirk of mischief.

John tackled his brother against the wrap. Their two bodies rolled around, managing to pop the bubbles as they attempted to straddle the other.

With his legs around his older brother, John pinned him down while saying, "How does an audio engineer take a soldier down? That's right – he doesn't." He grinned with victory as he came off of him.

Joshua groaned. "Ten years ago, I would have been able to take you down – easy."

Madeline raised an eyebrow. "Ten years ago," she emphasized, earning a high-five from John.

"I could still do it," John's brother insisted. "He just caught me off guard – that's all." The two brothers suddenly met eyes, heading off into round two. The two women, with the child, watched as they laughed at their chasing and grappling.

"5 quid says Joshua takes him down," John's sister-in-law shrugged. Madeline grinned and shook hands with her as the two intensely stared at the two men crashing into boxes. The two men were covered in sweat as they yelled joking threats at each other, later jumping into the air either to trap the other or escape a tackle.

Joshua tried to make a jump through the couch, but he was grabbed by John as the two landed with a hard _thud_. Madeline and the other woman shouted with a loud _"Oooh!"_ The continued to roll around in the bubble wrap, popping every bit in the process.

"You want to go get some coffee?" Madeline suggested, knowing that their brawl was going to last for awhile. Joshua's wife nodded and the two walked into the open kitchen, continuously amused.

* * *

><p><strong>October<strong>

"I'm leaving next week, Maddi. Can't you just call a substitute for a week and stay here, maybe go travelling with me?"

"Can you just _not_ go next week?"

"I wish I could stay, but I do have a job to do."

"I do, too."

"I save lives."

"I help people build them, _and communicate._"

"You also joke around and play pranks on your students, you cruel teacher."

"You think _I'm_ cruel, eh?"

"Stay frosty, Maddi."

"I get any frostier and I'll have icicles in my nose. Now, I've got to get to work. I'll see you in the afternoon."

"But then you'll have to leave again tomorrow."

"Quit complaining, you baby. Can't you handle yourself for a few hours?"

"No."

"John MacTavish, you travel around the world shooting down Tangos and infiltrating bases, yet you can't stay alone for awhile? I'd rather stay here, but I can't lie about a substitute."

"Oh. I supposed that's final, then."

"It is."

"But I don't want to say goodbye."

"Do you act this way while on leave?"

"No."

"Oh, so your colleagues don't know that you're insane?"

"I'm not the crazy one, Kid."

"I'm also headed to work."

Madeline laughed as she placed her hand behind John's neck, bringing him closer to her as she kissed him to make up for leaving. He watched as she grabbed her keys and headed out for the door.

"Don't speed."

She winked in acknowledgement and left. Seeing her vanish, John immediately headed for the kitchen and filled a bowl with water. He hastily headed toward the window and waited for Madeline to walk into his aim. Soon enough, she stepped out onto the sidewalk, oblivious to the suspended bowl above her head. Tilting it, John allowed all of the cold water to spill on top of her, drenching her from head to toe. Her head shot up.

He merely said, "Now, you're going to catch a cold. Come up here and call in a substitute. You're taking a week's worth vacation, Maddi."

_MacTavish smiled. "I learned a trick or two from her, especially when it came from getting what I wanted from those who liked to joke around. Did you know she was a magician? Well, she was good with cards. She also knew how to pick pocket. She entertained the hell out of me with that. There was this one time she picked the lock in our flat when we locked ourselves out. She took too long though, so I kicked it down."_

_Roach laughed. "You have a lot of memories, Captain." MacTavish nodded in agreement. _

_The lieutenant and sergeant continued to sway their heads in the rhythm of the music that played. MacTavish remained silent._

**That concludes the 'year-montage' concept for the chapters! I decided to take really mundane moments and put them into MacTavish's life because, well, extreme events can't happen every second, even if you're the captain of the Task Force 141. Anyway, this is a friendly reminder for you to review this chapter. Constructive criticism and comments are always welcome! Flames will be used to hunt down Makarov. Hoorah! **

**Chapter Title: **_**Every Time I Eat Vegetables It Makes Me Think Of You by Ramones**_**  
>Chapter Question<strong>_**: What's a little joy in your life? (Example: popping bubble wrap, walking into a bakery, trying on clothes fresh out of the dryer and so on…) (This will be used for future writing references.)**_

**Review for not-so-mini-MacTavish!**


	12. You Probably Couldn't See for the Lights

**Chapter XII: You Probably Couldn't See for the Lights but You Were Looking Straight at Me**_**  
>Chapter Genre<strong>__: Romance, Tragedy**  
>Chapter Character(s)<strong>__: Twenty-eight year old John MacTavish, his wife (Madeline MacTavish) / Ghost, Roach**  
>Chapter Summary<strong>__: Unlike love, life sometimes comes with consequences._

_X_

_"It seems strange that my life should end in a terrible place, but for three years I had roses and apologized to no one."_  
>– <em>Valerie, V for Vendetta<em>

_For a while during the drive, MacTavish remained silent as he gripped the steering wheel. His eyes would gaze up to the rear view mirror and watch Roach synchronize his lips to the music. Ghost nonchalantly allowed his gaze to generally look at MacTavish. It took a couple of minutes when his vision focused on the wedding ring around his left finger. _

_What was it like to go back home to someone you knew who loved you? What was it like to spend your time, unplanned and spontaneously? What was it like to look forward to more than just battles and infiltrations? These questions plagued Ghost's mind, along with sudden envy and jealousy. This man, John MacTavish, had everything he could ever wish for. He was first in command in the Task Force 141. He gained the respect of his elders, peers and those ranked below him. He had a life away from war. _

_Was _that_ what made him into the captain he knew? Did it suggest that he would never be able to have what it takes to be _that_ man, _that_ captain? Well, then he was certainly in trouble. _

_"I never answered your question, did I?" MacTavish suddenly spoke. Ghost's eyes rose. He added, "What does it take to be a captain? Well, it's not always easy, mate."_

_The vehicle had stopped in a peculiar location as the three men exited. Ghost and Roach followed MacTavish. _

**November 11, 2010**

He heard Madeline's soft chuckle over the phone, despite the sound of stress in her voice. She said, over the phone, "I'll bring the colours over to the flat. I'm glad your home; you can help me with matching it for your sister's wedding."

John rolled his eyes. "Just make it home safely, you colour-blind muppet. We're running out of time! We need to send the damn present in time. Now, where are the scissors?" He felt Madeline's grin through the telephone line. He opened several drawers in the kitchen as he constantly glanced up at the clock. He knew they both felt the pressure dawning on them.

"I'm getting home as quick as I can," she breathed. Referring to the question he asked, she answered, "They're in the slot beside the knives. Now, get to work! I love you!"

The line disconnected, which signalled John to bolt through the wide living room. Two weeks ago, his older sister had moved to Canada and became engaged to her long-time girlfriend, now fiancée. Knowing that Maddi and he would not be able to attend the wedding, they both decided to send a peculiar yet thoughtful gift for Josephine and her fiancée. The problem was that they needed the gift done soon. With Madeline's inability to see colours, it somewhat slowed them down.

Looking at the clock for the umpteenth time, John sighed with frustration.

* * *

><p><em>"Hope is paralyzing."<em>  
>– <em>William Hightower, Criminal Minds (Episode "To Hell… and Back")<em>

Narrowing his eyes, John checked his wrist watch and wondered what was taking Madeline so long. Then again, the insane hippy always gained inspiration at the strangest time and probably wanted to add something to their little present. He wasn't all too worried, to be honest. She was late before – actually, on numerous occasions – but what was irritating was that she didn't bother to text or call.

He paused. She was _driving_. Of course she wasn't going to call or text him.

Alone in the living room, he placed the blanket pages of the book on the table. Hand written comments of the MacTavish family (as well as friends) spilled throughout the leaves. Pictures of Josephine from her childhood to her adulthood also conquered the whiteness of it all. Madeline had taken inspirational quotes and songs and wrote them on the book. He had never done something that dealt with so much art and thoughtfulness. It was a nice change.

He got himself something to eat and drink while staring at the clock again. He smirked to himself, and thought, '_Hurry up, Maddi, before I cover all the pages with MY comments.'_

* * *

><p><em>"Set your prayers, Anastasia! No one can save you!"<br>"Wanna bet?"_  
>– <em>Rasputin and Dimitri, Anastasia <em>

A sense of nervousness shocked through John as he looked outside the window. It was getting late with the darkened sky and his frustration with Madeline was beginning to increase. If this was another of her practical jokes, then she was certainly going to have an earful by her return.

All the possibilities of her prolonged return ran through his head. There was the thought of traffic. The inspiration course was still up, too. Perhaps even discussing things with a friend to bribe them to get into the flat and write something for Josephine. Whatever the reason was, he expected a lengthy and detailed explanation from her upon her arrival. Working alone in the flat terrified him, or at least haunted him.

The phone blared out, causing the Scotsman to jump. Annoyed, he picked up the phone and talked hastily. The conversation did not last long until John slammed the phone and headed out to the door.

"Damn it, Maddi."

* * *

><p><em>"Fifty years from now, when you're looking back at your life, don't you want to be able to say you had the guts to get in the car?"<em>  
><em>-Sam Witwicky, Transformers<em>

_"Why couldn't you have stopped her from getting into that goddamn car?"_  
>– <em>Richard DeTamble, the Time Traveller's Wife <em>

The garbage can, which originally stood beside a door, now lay scattered far across the hall with its contents spilled. The bystanders, who all previously stared, now resumed their occupations and rushed duties while others turned away, frightened. A man, covered in scrubs with a stethoscope around his neck, loomed over the occupied chair as a blank yet concerning face stretched across his skin. His hands did nothing, afraid of the consequences if he did.

"Oh my God, I thought she was playing a joke."

John's hands roughly ran across his scalp as his breathing intensified. His eyes locked onto the plain floor as he felt his knees give in from his previous outburst. He felt his heart painfully drum against his chest with his eyes unfamiliarly stinging. He shook his head, attempting to deny every piece of information his ears captured. But, damn it, it wouldn't go away.

His voice broke as he spoke. "Every time I could, I'd tell her to _fucking slow down_," he breathed. John did not dare to suppress his use of profanity in front of the man. His eyes couldn't lift to meet, causing his guilt and anger to consume him. His hand reached over to the left side of his chest as he completely quivered.

"I'm so sorry."

Silence slowly built in between them as John's hands reached to his eyes, stopping the uncontrollable tears from falling. Strangely, he said, "The world needs to come up with a better way of giving condolences. How can you be sorry for something you can't control? It wasn't your fault." He frowned after his mouth closed. He cursed himself, knowing it was something his wife would say. What pained him more was hearing her voice in his head.

The moments grew longer as John slowly learned to stand up on his own. The man sighed and moved his hands to flip a couple pages of his notes. He said, "You have every right to know her condition." John said nothing. This cued for the man to continue. "A concussion, three broken ribs, a shattered right wrist and, currently, she is suffering from a lumbar spinal. I'm afraid, in her state; we would say she is paraplegic. But she is haemorrhaging, and we were unsuccessful with…" He trailed off.

John's eyes searched the blank walls.

The man took another deep breath. His voice cracked as he said, "It probably is not the best time to inform you about this, but it must be said." John attempted to look at the man but failed to meet his gaze. Instead, he heard him ask, "Were you aware of your wife's pregnancy?"

With every will in his body, John's blue eyes shot up to lock with the man's. His body did not dare move. John felt the pulse of his heart surge through his veins as no proper thought could conjure up until several minutes later. The man standing in front of John lowered his head and flipped through the pages, despite the fact that the two of them knew that there was nothing else medically to say.

The man's voice broke again as he repeated, "I'm so sorry."

Backing away, his hand rested on the doorknob of the room which John so feared. Pressing against it, the door was set ajar, tempting the Scotsman to enter, to face each fear and shred of anger in his body. His legs betrayed John as they stood frozen to the ground.

Before departing, the man mentioned, "I suggest no one informs her, either; not if you don't want her to leave with that grief. It won't make a difference soon, anyway."

John watched the man walk down the hallway before swaying his body to move to the door. His action obviously had surprised Madeline as he saw her head quickly lift up simultaneously to his entrance. There was no hesitation in his movement was he immediately rushed to her, placing both hands on her face as he kissed her over and over again. The very action of it brought confused tears to Madeline's eyes.

* * *

><p><em>"But I don't want you to die."<br>"That's the most beautiful thing you could have ever given me."_  
>– <em>Evey and V, V for Vendetta<em>

"If there's anything in my life I've done right, it was when I have my heart to you."

Her calmness brought undeniable terror to John's heart. As she smiled, he felt ghosts haunting the back of his mind. With their fingers entwined with each other, the thoughts he attempted to banish plagued his mind instead. For hours, John kissed her hand and continued to remind her that he loved her, as if she was going to forget.

The first moments he shared with her in the brightened room had been filled with her apologizing over and over again. Her breaking voice had caused a deep pain he was not familiar with, and for the first time in years, he cried. He ran his fingers through her thick locks and rocked her back and forth, attempting to comfort her. He had kept his eyes locked with hers, afraid that if he let go, then she would disappear from the face of the earth. And that scared him. Of all the events in his life, it truly scared him.

"You know, I've always wanted to marry you ever since I saw you on that stage. For a second, I thought you were a boy." He paused. "I didn't even know your name."

What struck him with awe was the fact that she giggled lightly, her eyes livening up. "You said that when you proposed." The two found themselves in an awkward chuckle as John held onto her left hand even tighter. "I guess I did love you for the rest of my life. I love you, dummy – more than you could ever know and certainly more than I have ever shown."

He choked back his tears, feeling the unfair pressure within his throat. "Silly girl, I love you more."

Frustration filled the blood in his body as his hand quivered with hers. His teeth bit into his tongue when trying to shield his eyes from her gaze. What he hated about the moment was that he couldn't argue about her primary statement. _I did love you for the rest of my life_. Oh, God; she did. She really did. And that was exactly why he was so angry.

* * *

><p><em>"Tell me, my dear: can a heart still break once it's stopped beating?"<br>- Lord Barkus, Corpse Bride _

_MacTavish maintained his pace of walking, ahead of the lieutenant and sergeant. Within his hands was a bouquet with a small card holding Madeline's name. He spoke, "What hurt the most was knowing that I wasn't enough to keep her alive." His eyes did not avert from the background ahead.  
><em>

**That concludes Chapter XII. This is a friendly reminder for you to review this chapter. Constructive criticism and comments are highly appreciated! Flames will be used to hunt down Makarov. Hoorah!**

**Chapter Title: **_**You Probably Couldn't See for the Lights but You Were Looking Straight at Me by Arctic Monkeys**_**  
>Chapter Question<strong>_**: What are you ideal last words? (This will be used for future writing references.)**_

**Please review! **


	13. Remembering Sunday

**Chapter XIII: Remembering Sunday**_**  
>Chapter Genre<strong>__: General**  
>Chapter Character(s)<strong>__: MacTavish, Ghost, & Roach**  
>Chapter Summary<strong>__: What made MacTavish into…MacTavish?_

_X_

_"'Ohana" means "family." "Family" means "no one gets left behind." But if you want to leave, you can. I'll remember you though. I remember everyone that leaves."_  
>– <em>Lilo, Lilo &amp; Stitch <em>

**Sunday, February 14, 2016**

The sky's breeze brushed past the towering, moving figures as it entangled itself with the branches of the nearby trees. The sun's rays glared down at area, illuminating half of the earth, despite how dark the world seemed to be. The resting cold air bit into the sensitive skin of visitors paying respects, but at the same time radiated a strange form of welcome. Saying goodbye was never something that was considered to be warm, anyway.

Halting, Ghost and Roach lowered their gazes to read the stone placed on the ground. MacTavish lowered himself to the ground and placed the bouquet onto the grass as he kissed the top of the stone with all of his affection. The lieutenant and sergeant remained silent until their captain stood up. His fingers held up Madeline's wedding ring, and Roach remained silent. All Ghost could do was attempt to open his mouth, but even he failed to speak of something with condolence.

Moments passed by before any of them spoke.

"All this time...?" was what Ghost could say without choking back empathetic tears. MacTavish nodded simply, not displaying a sense of horrific pain, but more of hollowness. MacTavish always knew how to hide his feelings. He hid his entire personal life, to add to it, but his comfort of their captain being alone with the resting subtly unnerved them. MacTavish's hands hid into his pockets as Roach sighed, still afraid of what his words might do. Ghost then spoke up after a prolonged silence. "That's why you have her things. That's why you yelled at me. That's why –"

"_That's_ why I'm captain," MacTavish responded. "Granted, I did my fair share of work. But damaged people are dangerous, Ghost. They know how to survive. That's why I've been able to make it through ever goddamn near-death experience. To grow stronger, you need to go through things to make you strong. Strength and courage isn't just _handed_ to you. It never is. You, of all people, Ghost, would know that. You, of all people, would know how to survive. This is what happens when you lose something you cannot replace.

"People tell you that you do not know what you have until you lose it. I disagree, mate. I knew _exactly_ what I had. I just never thought that I would lose it.

"It will never matter how many memories you carefully preserve. It will never matter what you swear to them. At some point in your life, the people you love will leave, either with or without choice. But there will never be one moment when the leave your mind, leave your heart or just _leave_. _That's_ what will matter.

"But you will love this person all of your life. You will love this person for the _rest_ of your life."

Ghost's eyes failed to meet the captain's.

MacTavish laughed dryly. "For three years, I got to hold a piece of heaven. Now, heaven holds a piece of me. My heart died with Maddi that day. It's been six years and there hasn't been a moment that goes by without me thinking about her. She gave me faith, and that is more than I could ever ask for." His eyes lifelessly fell back to her grave, almost dying to rest with her. The horrid humour of his struck his mind, and he added, "Look, Maddi; even the leaves are falling for you. Silly girl."

Quietly, Roach wished Madeline a happy birthday and allowed his eyes to look back up to his commanding officers. MacTavish motioned his head toward the vehicle, attempting to recollect himself.

"We've got a plane to catch later," he announced to the young sergeant. Informing him, he said, "To Kazakhstan. I'll brief you on the way." Roach and Ghost led the way to the vehicle as MacTavish caught himself looking back at the gravestone amongst others. He blinked, his heart tugging toward it. He, too, silently wished her a happy birthday before finally turning away from the stone. His mind betrayed him as his memory plastered the words carved in honour of her.

_Madeline MacTavish  
>My crazy, maddening, wonderful wife<br>"What a Shame it must be to Love Something Death can touch"_

**You know the drill, soldier. This is a reminder for you to review this chapter. Constructive criticism and comments are highly appreciated. Flames will be used to warm MacTavish's cold heart and hunt down Makarov. Hoorah!**

**As a note: All of your reviews have touched my heart! Thank you all so much! I'm still pretty giddy about them all, really.  
><strong>

**Chapter Title: **_**Remembering Sunday by All Time Low featuring Juliet Simms**_**  
>Chapter Question: <strong>_**How do YOU deal with heart break/bad news? (This will be used for future writing references.)**_

**Review for mini-, not-so-mini- and full-grown MacTavish.**


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